


The Devil Comes Down to Quantico

by Melethril



Series: Reverence For Life [2]
Category: Criminal Minds (US TV), Lucifer (TV)
Genre: 5+1 Things, As in: How to create a fake ID for the devil, Fluff and Humor, Gen, He knows who he is, Identity Issues, Just because I know myself: probably some angst sprinkled in, Physical evaluation, psych evaluation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-13
Updated: 2019-09-20
Packaged: 2020-10-18 00:34:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 20,833
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20630135
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Melethril/pseuds/Melethril
Summary: The investigations Lucifer has to face in order to become part of the BAU.Or: How to make Lucifer Morningstar a proper civilian consultant for the BAU, starting with an actual paper trail.





	1. How to Make a Morningstar

**Author's Note:**

> Hi all-
> 
> So, this story here will be a bit different from my previous Lucifer stories. It's short (yay!) and is primarily based on humor (yay? Not sure how good I am with that). There will be no case. 
> 
> It's also a bit of writing experiment for me, because I'll be using the 5+1 structure in one of the chapters.
> 
> For those who want to read a Return from Tartarus style story, wait until I post "Like Ashes in the Wind" (see details below).
> 
> Have fun!

“So, how do we go about this?” asked Supervisory Special Agent Derek Morgan.

For the second time in less than six months, the entire Behavioral Analysis Unit of the FBI was gathered in the small and wonderfully colorful sanctuary that was Technical Analyst’s Penelope Garcia’s apartment.

Garcia’s hands were on the keyboard, her screen displaying a picture of Lucifer Morningstar. It was quite striking how, even on an official photo where you were not allowed to smile, it still looked like he was grinning and flirting.

“Let’s take a step back,” said their Unit Chief SSA Agent Aaron Hotchner, practical as ever. “I think it’s obvious that for Lucifer to pass FBI-issued background checks, we must give put together a story that doesn’t clash with his very strict moral code when it comes to telling the truth, and that doesn’t violate with our own oaths to uphold the constitution of the United States of America.”

“Sir, he told us he was the devil,” protested Garcia.

“Yes,” replied her boss calmly. “And we can work with that.”

“Hotch,” said SSA David Rossi slowly. “What do we say? Date of birth: N/A (no calendar existed at time of birth if he was born at all); Former occupation: Lord of Hell; Special Skills: Bringer of Light?”

“I’m not saying that this is easy,” retorted Hotch calmly. “This is why I called all of you here on a Saturday morning. I’ve got the forms ready to instate him as an official civilian consultant for the BAU, but first, we need to make sure that we’re all on the same page as far as his qualifications and his past are concerned. Garcia, let’s pretend we don’t know he’s the devil. What did you find out in terms of finances, his past, birthplace and so on? I mean, you said that there was virtually no information on Lucifer before coming to LA, but surely his identity is based on at least something. Your system certainly would have flagged him if his papers were that far out of the norm, correct?”

“Sir, I wish I could say, yes, of course, but the truth is that my system should have flagged him as a literal ghost… Normally, it would have warned me that there is no birth certificate, no paper trail before opening Lux. His taxes are all in order, but that’s about the only thing that isn’t somehow funky.”

“Well, technically, he didn’t live on Earth beforehand,” chimed in Dr. Spencer Reid quite cheerfully. “For all matters and purposes, he is a ghost, or at least, he was before coming to LA.”

“That’s not helpful, my favorite genius,” replied Garcia, her face glued to the screen in front of her. “I’ve no idea why my system didn’t flag this…”

“Who knows what kind of favor he called in…” mused SSA Emily Prentiss. “With the right connections, you can disappear from any radar, even your system, Garcia.”

“Still, he needs a steady background,” commented Agent Morgan. “Connections will only get him so far. He should have a past that… Somebody should take one glimpse at his CV and know that this isn’t somebody to mess with.”

Agent Jennifer “JJ” Jareau grabbed her phone, “I’ll call him. I know it’s early, but from what I understand, he doesn’t really need sleep. He should know what we’re doing here. I’m sure he’s thought about this before.”

She waited for Agent Hotchner’s affirmative nod, searched for the number, let it ring putting the phone on speaker.

“_Agent Jareau, good morning!_” an enthusiastic, all-too familiar voice sounded from the speaker. _“How are things in DC?”_

“Hi, Lucifer, I’m sorry for calling you at seven in the morning, but I was wondering if you could help us. We’re all in Garcia’s apartment, and we’re…well, Hotch was filing the necessary papers to have you instated as a civilian consultant, but he called us when he was facing questions such as ‘date of birth’ and ‘expertise.’”

_“Oh,_” was the answer to that.

“Lucifer, how _did_you… What did you do when you came here? Where did you get your identity from?”

_“Well, long story short: I granted someone a favor and in turn, they created a human identity for Mazikeen and myself,” _was the reply.

“What kind of documents do you have?” asked Garcia. “I found practically nothing and what I found was related to Lux; your finances, your reputation, and your taxes, which make it clear that you’re a multimillionaire, but we know from your collection that you have much more money than that. I assume you have a driver’s license, but what else? Do you have a social security number? Are you even an American citizen? How come my system hasn’t flagged you in any way, shape or form?” asked Garcia.

_“Oh, that. No driver’s license. No social security number, I think. My taxes and finances are fine and legal thanks to my accountants, though we decided to only file the benefits earned from assets aquired after World War II, because possessions obtained prior to that were primarily built on gifts and the generosity of other people, which, in today’s world can be misinterpreted, as I understand.”_

They all looked at each other.

“What do you do when you get pulled over?” asked Derek, completely baffled.

_“Why, Agent Morgan,” _answered Lucifer. Although they could not see him, it was clear that he was smiling. “_Flirt my way out, of course. The LAPD is rather easily distracted, in my experience.”_

Dave sighed. This was going to be harder than he had originally thought. He looked over to Aaron, whose right hand was touching his forehead, probably having realized the same thing.

“So, there is no legal documentation regarding your presence in the United States,” concluded Emily, looking both horrified and a little bit fascinated. “How did you even get Lux? How come the IRS isn’t investigating you? How did Maze get a job at the LAPD?”

_“Well, my rental agreement is written in lipstick on a napkin, which upset Natalia at first, but once she realized the state of my legal documentation, she simply decided not to pursue the issue further. The IRS isn’t looking closer because quite a few people there owe me favors, particularly the Comissioner of Internal Revenue and the current as well as past Secretary of the Treasury. I learned that, in this country – or any country, really, don’t think the US is alone in that aspect – all you need is money, influence and connections. If you have that, you can do whatever you want.”_

The cheerful tone belied the very serious subject matter.

_“As for Maze: she has full documentation as a resident of the United State of America. It’s easier to forge documents for somebody capable of lying.”_

“I see. So, would it be possible for us to call your accountants? Jonathan and Natalia-”

_“Yes, of course, Agent Jareau, they are expecting a call from you, actually,” _was the casual reply. _“As soon as I told them that I would work for the federal government they were worried, and when I assured them that you _knew_, they wanted to contact you immediately, just so that everyone is on the right page.”_

“Can you give us their numbers?” asked Garcia. “I would like to call them now if that is possible. Hotch needs to hand in the documents by Monday, and it’s going to take me a while to… Sir, forging documents is not what I do.”

“Don’t worry, Garcia, all we’ll do is create Lucifer’s backstory. We’ll find a way to make sure Lucifer can obtain these documents after they were temporarily displaced during a very complicated if not _hellish _move from his previous address.”

_“Very nice, Agent Hotchner_,” Lucifer acknowledged. _“I appreciate the turn of phrase.” _He then proceeded to give them Natalia’s number, so that they could include the two accountants in their conversation.

Dave had always expected that accountants were dry, humorless and straight-laced, just like his own fiduciary was. However, it was obvious that working with an exceptional client such as Lucifer Morningstar had changed their approach.

Lucifer’s prior occupation was filed as ‘essential leading position/CEO of the family business.’ The family business was labeled as church/religion/spiritual leadership, which, in itself, meant that all assets obtained while he was working for the family business, were tax exempt.

Brilliant move and not technically lie.

Natalia and Jonathan Griffith were all too happy to provide them with enough information so that they managed to put together an identity that Lucifer would not perceive as lying about himself. Ultimately, their biggest challenge was to find a birthday that did not clash with Lucifer’s stance.

It was Reid who convinced him that January 25, the day he arrived on Earth six years prior, was perfect to celebrate his _birthday_, and as year of birth, they decided to go for 1978*(est.), which indicated that the year of his birth was an estimate based on physical attributes, which Lucifer reluctantly accepted.

“Alright, my friends,” chirped Garcia, “this is the information that our colleagues are going to gather about Lucifer…”

* * *

** _Family name: Morningstar_ **

** _Fist Name: Lucifer_ **

_DOB: 01/25/1978*(est.)_

_POB: N/A*_

_The subject was born on January 25 between the years 1975 and 1981 into _The Celestial Family_, a religious non-profit organization strongly related to Abrahamic Religions. _The Celestial Family _comprises a single, patriarchal clan. _

_He is the third son and fourth child of said family. The organization is still active today. The subject was shunned and banned from the parents’ home following an altercation with the two older brothers (Michael and Amenadiel) and the father (name unknown, referred to by various synonyms of ‘God’ and ‘father’). The mother (name unknown) was also shunned and ejected from her previous home only a few years after the subject was banned._

_The subject was homeschooled and has no official degree (General Eductional Development [GED], college degree), but a number of experts (list of certified experts attached) have come to the conclusion that the subject is fluent in a considerable number languages from all known language groups including but not limited to various Indo-European (i.e. English, French, German, Spanish, Russian, Hindi), Sino-Tibetan (i.e. Mandarin, Thai) and Austronesian (i.e. Malay, Indonesian) languages. The subject is an unparalleled expert in theology with extensive knowledge in all world religions, particularly all Abrahamic and anti-Abrahamic (i.e. Satanism) movements. _

_While the subject has not occupied a position directly related to U.S. law enforcement or the military, he has extensive martial arts and self-defense experience and is proficient in various interrogation techniques._

_Miscellaneous/Other skills: _

_The subject is an expert in Astronomy and Astrophysics, especially regarding the formation of solar systems._

_The subject is proficient in playing various instruments, particularly the piano, and his knowledge is equal to the expertise of an experiened musician with a Master’s degree (M.A.)._

* * *

_*Year of birth is an estimate based on physical features. _

_*Place of birth remains confidential as a security measure._


	2. Meeting the Morningstar (5+1)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Five times Lucifer broke into a team member’s apartment and the one time they opened the door for him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, thank you so much for the continued support for this crazy crossover!

_One: Technical Analyst Penelope Garcia_

Penelope almost had a heart attack when she saw that the door to her apartment was open. She instinctively grabbed her phone to call Morgan when a familiar voice sounded from inside.

“Ah, Ms. Garcia, you’re here. Come in, come in!”

She was going to kill that menace; immortal or not, she would find a way.

No matter how handsome he was.

“What are you doing here? I thought you’d fly in next week,” was all she squeaked ultimately, because damn it, that smile should be forbidden. He was sitting at her gaming computer in her living room looking back at her like she hung the moon, which, okay, was both flattering and weird given that he was likely the one responsible for that.

“So did I, but alas, a devil’s work is never done, and I was asked to come in earlier to inspect potential locations for my DC-branch of Lux. Once in DC, I figured, why not visit some of my new colleagues? Your apartment happened to be closest. However, I remembered what you told me about that bad, bad man who hurt you, therefore I left the door open in order not to frighten you.”

She did not have to heart to tell him that he still scared the living daylights out of her, but she had to make one point very clear.

“Breaking and entering into a home, particularly the apartment of woman living alone is not appropriate. You know that, right?”

“But…” he looked at her, confused. “I wouldn’t do so with a lover, true, because in my experience, while I’ve been invited to other people’s home, a lot of women prefer their lovers away from their own living space. However, we’re colleagues now.”

“So, you would… just walk into your bartender’s – Patrick, if I remember correctly – house.”

“Well, no, because he’s a member of my staff, and I’ve always respected my staff’s freedoms and boundaries.”

“What about Maze?”

“We’ve shared our living space for an eternity, so I wouldn’t dream of asking her for permission now. She would probably view it as an insult on my part,” he answered earnestly. “I usually knock because she insisted on having doors on her floor.” He shuddered, “Says it makes her feel ‘_at home_.’”

She sat on the couch and looked at him. ‘_At home’_ for Maze was Hell.

“You don’t like doors,” she stated rather than asked.

“No, I don’t,” he confirmed, looking quite appalled at the thought. “Why would I want to trap myself into a room? Humans always want to confine themselves in them, be it for eternal punishment or bliss. Why? If it were up to me, Lux wouldn’t have a roof. But apparently that would be too cold, and humans cannot enjoy themselves when they’re shivering, so I agreed to keep the roof.”

There was simply too much to unpack, and she was not a profiler, which was why she did not say anything. What she remembered was how willingly he had opened his home for them with no sense of maintaing his own privacy. The reason for that could be that there had been little to no privacy in his prior life, and why would anyone try to change a system that had lasted for much longer than Penelope could even imagine?

Besides, he was here, doing nothing more than what she had done in his penthouse, probably less because he had not accessed her finances or _sensitive _ collections.

There was no use in being angry.

“That was nice of you,” she smiled. “What are you doing on my computer? It’s-“ Only then did she realize that he was actually playing a game. “How did you access my computer? You shouldn’t be able to log in.”

“Door locks, gates, safes, computer passwords… It’s all the same and nothing is safe from the devil,” he grinned.

“Oh, wow, that’s cool,” she breathed. She would so call dibs on him when time was short and their UnSub a techie. “Okay, you may be able to sneak into my computer, but I make a bet that I’m better at operating it than you are, Mr. Morningstar,”

With a grin, he moved to the side and gave her access to one of the most expensive items in the room: a custom-made, bright and colorful gaming chair. That made her notice something.

“Wait,” she said slowly. “Why did you take a chair from the kitchen? There’s a perfectly good chair right here.”

“No king in his right mind would take the queen’s throne,” he smiled. “This is your province and I am but a lowly squire.”

“You got that right, minion,” she replied cockily with a wide grin on her lips. He chuckled lowly at that and then leaned forward to watch her do magic on the computer. It was humbling to know that his ancient being wanted to learn from her, if only to find out how to excel in _Quest for Camelot_. In turn, he was frighteningly good at these old speech patterns, and happily courted anyone who was interested.

Tomorrow morning, she would warn the others that Lucifer was in town and that he might pay them a visit as well. She just needed to make sure that her very capable and deadly family would not shoot their latest member. Sure, it would not physically harm him, but there was no need to unnecessarily hurt him. 

* * *

_Two: Dr. Spencer Reid_

“Hi, what are you reading?” asked Spencer once his breathing was back under control. In this moment, he was immensely grateful for Garcia’s warning.

While all the evidence had pointed toward Lucifer being utterly unbothered by the dark, and there was even more indication for him being resistant to any level of brightness (Given that he had admitted to making all the stars, Lucifer’s eyes could probably stand levels of brightness that were almost immeasurable [though he did mention something about this current form not being his angelic form, which meant that his more human eyes may not have the same level of resistance as his devil eyes]. He would also have to talk to Lucifer about how angels judged and measured the brightness of stars considering that researchers usually measured said brightness in relation to its distance from Earth), it was still a bit disconcerting to step into your apartment to find a dark-clad devil sitting in a chair by Spencer’s library reading a book without any lights on.

“One of your more recent purchases, I think,” was Lucifer’s reply. “_What we know about God, the Universe and Beyond_. Really, Dr. Reid? You are so much more intelligent than this clerical cretin. They pretend to know, but they don’t, they’re all just guessing, and more often than not, they’re wrong. If they’re right, it’s by chance. At least you and your fellow scholars and scientists look for evidence that prove or disprove your hypotheses. You would never suit your facts to fit your theories as another brilliant if fictional mind so wonderfully observed.”

“_’Never theorize before you have data. Invariably, you end up twisting facts to suit theories instead of theories to suit facts_.’ Sherlock Holmes in _A Scandal in Bohemia_, most notable for the first appearance of Irene Adler,” responded Spence promptly, though part of him – the one tormented by a number of bullies he had encountered throughout his life – screamed at him to shut up. That inner voice was only silenced when he saw Lucifer smiling at him, “Exactly, so why reading this garbage?”

“Meeting you made me realize that, while I may have read the bible, while I can quote anything from the bible and many other religious texts, I haven’t read too many books that deal with the subject matter, outside of strictly thelogical, fact-based research, so I thought I would give this one a try,” answered Spencer calmly.

“And, did it give you any answers?”

“No,” replied Spencer softly. “I just have more questions.”

“Well. I’m here. Feel free to ask me anything,” was Lucifer’s soft reply. Spencer stumbled over his own feet as he launched forward to turn on the lights so that he could join his latest friend by the library. 

* * *

_Three: Supervisory Special Agent Emily Prentiss_

Tiredly, Emily approached her apartment. She looked forward to a nice, long soak in the bathtub and a movie before going to sleep. She was too exhausted to finish that book she had started about four weeks ago. As much as she adored and respected Reid, she was sometimes irrationally envious of his ability to devour books at record speed.

She really wanted to know who the murderer was (and yes, she enjoyed thrillers, sue her), but she already knew that she would not find out tonight.

Putting the key into the lock, she startled when she heard voices inside.

All too familiar ones.

With a sigh, her shoulders slumped for a moment (_‘Emily Prentiss, you’re a lady, do not slump your shoulders. Back straight!’_), but she entered her home with her head held high.

“Mother, hello, what are you doing here? Lucifer, good to have you here!”

She figured saying ‘_thank God, you’re here_!’ would not end well with either her mother or him.

She really appreciated Lucifer’s manners. Through nonverbal cues, they had agreed on greeting by two kisses on the cheek, Paris-style. He also had this tendency to lapse into French around her as if he could tell that she missed speaking the language on a regular basis. It was strange that she was already talking of habits given the man had come to DC three weeks ago, and she had seen him a total of three times up until now, but yeah, she already knew he would stick to these mannerisms.

“Agent Prentiss, how good to see you’re home and well,” he stepped forward. She leaned in for their greeting, and he retreated with a bright, charming smile. “I met your mother in the hallway earlier, talk about coincidences, and decided to fix us some dinner for the three of us, unless of course, you would like me to visit at another time-“

“Nope, sounds perfect,” said she hastily, inwardly thanking the High Heavens (or the depths of Hell) for Lucifer’s presence. A surprise visit from her mother had _never_ ended well. “What are you making?”

“Well, I found an actual French bakery just a few blocks from the building I rented, so I brought some cheese, bread and meat. Quite simple, really. If I had known you were having guests over, I would have cooked something.”

Could he sound and act any more like her mother’s dream son-in-law?

Her mother, predictably, melted, “Oh, Mr. Morningstar, no, please, don’t trouble yourself. I must say, Emily, why haven’t you mentioned that you’re acquainted with such a gentleman? Mr. Morningstar, how long have you been working at the FBI?”

True to his word, he was fixing dinner, while telling her about their case back in LA, his move to DC and how he was now going through all the necessary administrative hoops to join the BAU.

“First my daughter and now you. What is it about the FBI, and particularly, the Behavioral Analysis Unit that seems to fascinate people?” she asked, and Emily gritted her teeth.

_‘Here we go.’_

Slowly shaking her head, she opened her mouth to defend her job yet again, but Lucifer’s head tilted to the side.

“As an ambassador, I am sure you’ve met, talked to, even negotiated and were forced to work closely with people that made your skin crawl. And you did it because it was your duty. Correct? All these tiresome powerplays, the games, the ‘I’ll scratch your back if you scratch mine,’ the deals away from those directly involved, the pretense that your life is perfectly under control even if all your loved ones were slipping away from beneath your fingers. I’m sure this sounds familiar.”

His almost hypnotic, dark-brown eyes had utterly entranced her mother, but each word hit so close to home that Emily almost started to cry.

She remembered that icy silence in her parents’ house, this sham of a perfectly good family life they presented to the outside world, when in truth her parents did not speak to each other. The moment she turned eighteen, her father had left the house, never to return. As far as she knew, he was now living with his new family and her step-mother was only eight years her senior.

“I…yes,” admitted her mother quietly.

“Your daughter has decided to choose a profession where she can step away from all that, where she might be able to stop those that you, as a result of your duties, had to let go or work with even though you knew they were bad people. Thanks to Agent Hotchner’s impeccable sense of duty and the unspoken moral obligations all of its members have, they can step away from these powerplays and protect and support those who need it the most.”

Emily was speechless. So was her mother.

That was one hell of a statement to make (huh. Pun intended). It was intimidating just how highly Lucifer appeared to think of them. This was the former lord of Hell (who was she kidding? He was the devil. Retirement was not really an option. He would forever be the being that ruled Hell in living memory even if he could pass on the torch in the future) and he had decided to work with them, so that he could carry on his duty as a punisher of evil right here on Earth.

“I see,” replied her mother softly. “Well, then I stand correct and congratulate you and Emily on choosing a profession that has purpose and makes you happy.”

The profiler exhaled sharply before thanking her mother for the support.

The rest of the night continued splendidly.

If only her mother did not shift from trying to fix her up with Lucifer to flirting with him herself; an offer that her latest colleague had taken to all too enthusiastically.

* * *

_Four: Supervisory Special Agent David Rossi_

Happy to have escaped the burning Miami sun, David stepped into his apartment.

“_Buona serata, Lucifer_,” said he in Italian. _“I hope you know how to cook Italian or I might just have to shoot you for invading my kitchen.”_

_“Really, Agent Rossi, I learned from some of the best,”_ was the casual reply, as their hopefully-soon-to-be-instated devil expertly stirred the _Risotto ai funghi_, and the smell was positively divine (oh, the irony!).

_“And how were you able to obtain these cooking lessons?_” he asked in return, but the devilish smile combined with a gleam that spoke of pleasures in all its variations answered that question for him. _“Forget it. I know.”_

_“The guest should bring the wine,” _continued Lucifer. His Italian was fluent and so very adapted to David’s own accent, it brought David back to the very best of childhood memories. _“But while we’re in your home, I’m the one who cooked. Therefore-”_

As always with perfect timing, the doorbell rang and David smiled.

Lucifer’s eyes gleamed with amusement as he automatically switched back to English, “You knew I’d be here when you return from your case.”

“Just like you knew I wouldn’t be alone,” replied David, went to the door and let Hotch in, who was carrying both a bottle of red and a bottle of white Italian wine. “You were right. He made risotto.”

A characteristic, subdued smile adorning his face, the Unit Chief of the BAU entered, “Good evening, Lucifer.”

“Agent Hotchner, hello,” smiled the devil as he guided them to a perfectly set table for three.

* * *

_Five: Supervisory Special Agent Derek Morgan_

Derek’s steps were light as he entered the courtyard of the apartment building. Today had been a good day. No loss of life, straightforward, case closed, no need to travel anywhere. Derek loved his job, as tough as it was sometimes, but it could be hard on your mood, your private life, your everything. As much as he found that traveling to all these places had taught him a lot more about different cultures, lifestyles and traditions than he would have learned as a member of Chicago or any another PD, it could also be tiring.

“Derek!”

“Hey, kid,” he smiled.

Jerome Williams and Rodney Carlton, two of the neighbors’ kids, ran up to him. Mrs. Williams waved at him from the balcony on the second floor as the seven-year-olds came to a skittering halt. “How’s my Clooney?”

“Good, sir,” said Rodney, as always almost painfully polite. “We walked him for two whole hours today, so he’s tired, and we had him over for lunch. Mom fed him, and he’s back in your apartment.”

He loved this neighborhood.

He had gotten Clooney six years ago. Not that he intended on having a dog, not with this job, but he had quite literally stumbled upon him, and, unable to leave that small bundle without a proper home, he had taken him in. However, having a dog, and being obliged to be away for days at a time was not a good combination, so he had talked to some of his neighbors and their children took Clooney out whenever he was not there (at regular dog walking fees). Clooney stayed over at the Williams or the Carlton family whenever he was absent.

However, when he was here, he would always find that small bundle – that was now a large, fully grown labrador retriever – on his couch (where he was not supposed to be) or in his bed (where he definitely should not allow him to go, but these dark, big eyes were difficult to say ‘no’ to, especially if he himself was in need of that loyal soul by his side).

“Thanks, kid,” smiled Derek.

“Hey, Derek, you coming to Nathan’s football game next Saturday?” asked Jerome hopefully. “He always says you give the best advice and it would mean a lot to him if you could come and watch.”

“I’ll be there as long as I don’t get a call from work,” promised Derek. Jerome’s older brother was good kid and a gifted athlete. “Have a good night. Mrs. Williams, “ he gave her a nod and stepped inside the building. He turned to key to his apartment and entered.

He frowned when Clooney did not immediately run up to him.

“Daddy’s home,” said he out of sheer habit, but his hand already found his weapon.

He quickly stepped into the living room only to see…

“Damn it, Lucifer!”

“Certainly. What would you like me to damn and why?” asked the fallen angel cheerfully, his fingers massaging Clooney’s right ear, which the little traitor pressed as hard against the caressing hand as possible, moaning happily.

“One of these days, I’ll shoot you accidentally.”

“Oh no,” muttered Lucifer sardonically, his full focus on the dog. “Whatever will happen to me?”

“I hope it’ll sting,” replied Derek, but could not keep the amusement out of his voice.

“Now, Clooney here had a wonderful day, and he’s extra happy because he knew that his packleader would be home tonight,” continued Lucifer, still massaging the dog’s ears gently.

“Well, perhaps, if he acknowledged my presence, I might actually believe you,” Derek retorted, realizing that he was honestly a bit peeved about Clooney’s lack of reaction.

“Oh, believe me, he would love to, but he’s currently enjoying a massage at the devil’s hands. It can be quite distracting,” smiled Lucifer as he slowly stopped doing just that. Clooney lifted his head only to notice Derek’s presence, which was the moment the FBI profiler had an armful of labrador in his arms.

It was so good to be home.

“Have you already had dinner?” offered Derek. “I was thinking Chinese takeout.”

* * *

_Plus One: Special Agent Jennifer “JJ” Jareau, Communications Liaison_

Six down, one to go.

Lucifer walked up to Agent Jareau’s apartment, but before he could put his hand on the handle, he noticed that somebody was already there, so instead of opening the door, he decided to knock.

A drop-dead gorgeous young man opened the door. There was a relaxed air about him, his light-green bedroom eyes and brown hair completing the picture.

“William LaMontagne Jr.,” the stranger introduced himself with a half-smile. His New Orleans accent drawled almost lazily and Lucifer was utterly charmed. “You must be Lucifer Morningstar. JJ works long hours today, but you can help me with the dish I’m preparing for her.”

Lucifer inhaled the scent and smiled, “Oh, I love Red Beans and Rice, or Louisiana kitchen in general.”

“It’s a Monday, so…” Mr. LaMontagne began but did not complete the sentence. Instead, he continued. “It’s just about time to mash the beans, so you can either help me with that or set the table.”

Less than half an hour later, the door opened and Agent Jareau entered her apartment. She did not look particularly surprised, but the look exchanged between Detective LaMontagne and the FBI agent spoke volumes.

They were almost disgustingly cute.

Of course, Lucifer made his opinion on the matter very clear, and they still invited him to stay for dinner.

Delilah was right. This team was definitely worth keeping around.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N:  
> I’m never doing Reid again. He’s too difficult to write!  
> Rossi’s POV: His story takes place in the aftermath of 4x17: In Heat
> 
> References:  
https://www.goodreads.com/quotes/8257787-never-theorize-before-you-have-data-invariably-you-end-up-twisting  
https://www.neworleans.com/things-to-do/multicultural/cultures/french/  
https://www.neworleans.com/restaurants/traditional-new-orleans-foods/red-beans-and-rice/  
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/A_Scandal_in_Bohemia
> 
> Next up: Coaching the Morningstar


	3. Coaching the Morningstar

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The BAU prepares Lucifer for the psych eval. It's an interesting experience.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two chapters in a day... Don't get used to this pace. I'm on vacation and I am taking full advantage of it :)
> 
> Thank you so much for your support.

Aaron was immensely grateful for his team. Here they were, after a 60-hour week, in Dave’s house (_‘I have a mansion, not a house.’_) on a Sunday morning in order to prepare Lucifer for his evaluations next week.

It did not surprise him: Once you were accepted into this team, it was fully and completely. This team only worked because, at the end of the day, once you went past the chain of command and the truly gruesome crime scenes they had to face daily, they were a family, which in and on itself was surprising given that there was not a single member of this team whose childhood had not been disrupted if not traumatized as a result of their own family life. This was probably the reason why Lucifer fit so well with them, even before they had known who he actually was (which was still a matter of debate within the team; it helped that Lucifer went out of his way not to be frightening or intimidating). In many ways, it had been obvious that he suffered from a similar childhood trauma and that he had seen the same level of darkness they had to witness every day, and yet, there had been a youthfulness to him that was almost addictive. Once you took into consideration his true identity, it amplified rather than diminished the trauma he must have gone through (Aaron could not imagine the agony or fathom the things Lucifer had witnessed as the world’s sin-eater throughout the history of time), and the entire team was anxious to have him become a part the BAU.

Still, that did not explain Garcia’s presence, “Garcia, while I appreciate you coming here, I’m not sure how you could help us prepare Lucifer for his psychological and physical evaluation.”

“Well, that is because you, my dear head honcho,” she began, “forget that I was actively recruited by the FBI to lend my exceptional computer skills to your organization.”

“That’s one way of putting is,” said Dave sardonically. “I think the motto with which the Bureau worked in dealing with you was ‘_If you can’t beat them, join them’_.”

“Oh really?” Lucifer grinned widely. “Ms. Garcia, were you being a naughty girl? Tell me, what did you do?”

Garcia blushed and studied the ground in front of her, “I promised that I wouldn’t tell.”

“Oh, what dark secrets did you uncover?” Lucifer purred happily, but he did not push her any further than that. He kept his word, and he expected others to keep theirs.

“Anyway,” said she. “I also had to do the psych eval, and unlike you six,” she addressed all but Lucifer, “I’m not an FBI agent. Besides, I’m just here waving the pom-poms.”

“Please tell me you brought that costume with the really short skirt, because-“

“Everyone, focus please,” interrupted Aaron for his own sanity. Lucifer may be able turn an entire conversation at will, while simultaneously still being able to solve a crime and do something else entirely like owning a nightclub, but Aaron was human, and he needed to make sure Lucifer had all the information to pass the psych evaluation.

“First, there was a mandatory assessment, performed by David because I was the one to hire you,” explained Aaron. “He had to hand in a report that listed exactly why we thought you were a good match as well as his personal conviction that you can deal with the pressure of working for the BAU. Next, there will be the psych evaluation, which consists of two levels: first, an online questionnaire, then a second evaluation by a psychiatrist or psychologist who has no direct ties to the BAU to objectively evaluate whether or not they think our assessment is adequate.”

“Thankfully,” Dave continued, addressing Lucifer, “we wrote the entire online questionnaire, so we can easily tell you what kind of questions you’re going to receive and how you need to answer them, so that you can pass the evaluation. However, you don’t lie, so we need to prepare you for that. Also, there are certain things you shouldn’t do and mustn’t say during these psych evaluations. Flirting with the psychiatrist is a no-go, no matter how beautiful or attractive they are, and I expect Strauss to give us a tough nut to crack, though she actually seems to like you.”

“No need to sound so surprised, Agent Rossi,” replied Lucifer good-naturedly.

“The purpose of the online questionnaire you’ll have to fill out,” Morgan jumped in, “is not to determine whether or not you’re insane, but will simply give the Bureau an idea regarding your personality. The following traits will be tested: general intelligence, judgment, ability to perform boring or tedious tasks, reasonable courage, honesty, integrity, personal bias or lack of bias, ability to tolerate stress, your motivation, dependability, ability to deal with supervision,” Lucifer scoffed at that, which was understandable given that his ‘supervisor’ was the closest thing to all-knowing and all-powerful in the universe, “appropriate attitudes towards sexuality.” Lucifer grinned at that, “impulse control,” now Reid started to giggle which was not helpful, “and prior drug use. Hotch, how do we prevent him from being drug tested?”

“I indicated that _The Celestial Family _has strong reservations about having its members’ blood drawn,” was all Hotch said to that. “Now, David and I have made a list regarding the most common questions on the online questionnaire and how you could answer them without lying, and I have no doubt you’ll excel. Today, we would like to prepare the actual interview with you. We’ll take turns and ask you questions. You’ll answer them and we’ll give you feedback.”

* * *

“Hello.” He sounded like the personification of the phrase ‘sex on legs.’

Dave exhaled exasperatedly.

“No. Let’s start again. JJ, do another entry.”

* * *

“Why am I angry at my father? Where to begin? It all started when Dad decided to create human-“

“No!” exclaimed the entire room at the same time.

* * *

“Oh, I love sex, and I have no qualms talking about it. There is nothing more rewarding than worshipping another body, be they female or male or both or either. In my experience, the best sex and the only way it should be enjoyed, is the willful and enthusiastic participitation of every member involved. Besides, and I guess, this is where your question is going, there is nothing sinful about having sex with a member of your own gender as long as the other person gives consent and is capable of giving consent.”

Silence followed that statement.

“You know what? That was actually fine. At least they can’t say he’s biased against sexuality,” muttered Dave.

* * *

“How would I punish someone who killed another person? Oh, that is too general a question and a strange one at that. First, I’m the devil. I just punish, there is no hypothetical about this. Second, each case must be evaluated separately. Third, even with crimes of that magnitude, they usually punish themselves, but really my demons do everything from classic torture with hot pokers and stretchers to more subtle forms of psychological torture. There was this one time, we-“ Cheerfully, he explained in detail how one of his head torturers developed a method to draw and quarter a soul, an act that could be repeated indefinitely.

“Lucifer,” said Reid, gently interrupting him with wide eyes. “I think you should just stick to what you brought up as a second point and then continue with a general statement on how you respect the laws of this country and how you will follow proper procedure, so that the offender will get their due. It’s not a lie, and is a satisfactory answer.”

“Very good, Dr. Reid,” grinned Lucifer. “I’ll remember that one.”

* * *

“Human emotions are bloody-“

“Emotions, Lucifer, keep the term ‘human’ out of this statement.”

“Emotions are bloody inconvient. They flare up at the most inopportune of moments, and they’re unpredictable. It was easier back in Hell, when I simply shut it all away… Where are you going, Agent Rossi?”

“I need a drink. Anyone else?”

“It’s ten o’clock in the morning, man.” – “Oh yes, please, Agent Rossi. Whatever you have, is fine with me.” – “Is everything alright, Dave?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine… Just, drinks.”

* * *

“No, my psychiatrist has not prescribed me any drugs, because she figured they wouldn’t work on me anyway. On the contrary, I insisted on the getting-drugs-part and she refused.”

“Only use the first part of the sentence, Lucifer,” replied Aaron calmly, before continuing with his questions. “So, no drugs. How does Dr. Martin conduct your therapy sessions?”

“One hour a week in her office, which we now shifted to a skype session once a week and a face-to-face meeting every second month.”

“Good, that’s good. You can say this. You could also say how your sessions with her help you.”

“I’ve spent the majority of my existence trying to avoid thinking about how Dad kicking me out made me feel. I mean, I was angry about it, sure, but I didn’t realize that sometimes it… just hurts.”

“How do you deal with that hurt?”

“I play a lot of music until my chest stops feeling tight and uncomfortable.”

“That’s good. Okay, let’s take a break,” Aaron concluded softly. “Who’s starving?”

* * *

“Hello.”

A sigh.

“Again.”

* * *

“How would you describe yourself?”

“Painfully alluring wrapped inside of a devilishly good-looking mystery.”

“Okay, now you’re just messing with me.”

“Why would you think that, Agent Rossi?”

* * *

“Oh, that’s quite old-school, I’d say. Were you using thumbscrews to intensify the pain? I wasn’t aware the US allowed torture methods like that in their justice system.”

“The FBI didn’t do that, Lucifer. These are crime scene photos,” explained Emily calmly.

“Are you sure? Several members from various branches of the US government ended up in my domain, especially those operating on foreign soil. They enjoyed killing in the name of their country just a bit too much.”

Aaron and Dave stood by the kitchen counter, watching the scene unfold.

“At least we can say he’s not squeamish,” Dave sighed, practical as ever.

* * *

It was evening by the time Lucifer lost his patience.

“So, your advice is: don’t say anything, don’t think, pretend to be someone else. Thank you very much for your time, but I think you might have selected the wrong person to join your team.” He rose from his seat in one smooth, elegant move. His eyes – which had gleamed happily only a few minutes ago – were dark and distant. “I’ve spent an eternity doing my father’s bidding, trying to _please _him, only to forever remain unsuccessful. For the first time in my existence, I can be whoever I want to be. I’ve no intention of giving up on that freedom now and if you want me to change that much, then I’m afraid you need to look for someone else. If you will excuse me, I have a number of new staff members to interview.”

“Lucifer, stop!” commanded Aaron softly. He had expected this outburst. Their new team member had been a remarkably good sport all day, but everyone had their breaking point. “We want _you_, not this person you’re presenting yourself as to get through the evaluation. Humans are never less themselves than when they apply for a job interview. They present the carbon copy of who they think their employer is looking for. I know that answering so ambiguously and disingenuously goes against your core principles, and that lying is unthinkable. We respect that, but-“

“You don’t want me to change who I am. You just want me to be that other person long enough, so that I can be myself with you,” concluded Lucifer with an insightfulness that should not surprise Aaron.

“Exactly.”

“I can do that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> References:  
https://www.thebalancecareers.com/psychological-exams-and-screening-for-police-officers-974785
> 
> Next up: Proper Procedure (aka the psych evaluation and its aftermath)


	4. Proper Procedure

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How to perform a psych evaluation on the devil...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much, my dears. I almost feel like apologizing for the speed of my updates. They'll slow down now (>24h per chapter), but my muse was simply too happy writing this..

The whole team was standing around Reid’s desk, their eyes focused on Hotch’s office, which was currently occupied by Hotch, Strauss and Rossi, discussing how Lucifer’s psych evaluation would take place.

They did not know yet who the assigned psychologist or psychiatrist would be, so they could not warn Lucifer about that person’s idiosyncrasies. Lucifer was not here anyway. He was required to wait on another floor until he was directly guided to the selected office for the interview.

This was ridiculous. Lucifer was not an UnSub; there was no need to treat him like this.

Garcia was wringing her hands worriedly, “I can never tell with Hotch. Is this is his ‘everything is good’ frown or his ‘Strauss, you’re the thorn in my side’ frown?”

“He’s worried,” was all that Reid said, and Derek turned around to face their resident genius.

“Okay, spill it, I can read Hotch just fine when we’re face to face, but at this distance, it’s impossible to tell. How do you know he’s worried?”

“When Hotch is standing in his office and he’s relaxed, he stays close to his desk, sometimes even leaning his legs or hips against it unless he’s greeting someone. He stays to the side of the desk that faces us and he’s never further away than two feet, ready to get back to work. When Hotch is angry, he usually turns his left shoulder away from the window, so that we only see his back, possibly to use his considerable stature to impose on whoever is angering him inside of the room while simultaneously making sure we don’t see that he’s angry. When he’s worried, he always stands close to the other side of the desk, so that he can check in on us making sure we’re fine. He always does that even when we’re not the subject of the conversation.”

Derek reached out and squeezed his younger colleague’s shoulder affectionately, “Everything’s going to be okay, Kid. We’ve prepared Lucifer and I’m confident that there is nothing any human being could throw at him that he can’t deal with.”

“Where is he anyway? Are they trying to kill us with suspense?”

The moment Emily finished her sentence, their superiors moved toward the door, which Rossi opened for the other two. Strauss nodded and an agent, Michael Rivers, stepped into the elevator.

Their proud Section Chief, Hotch and Rossi came downstairs and they all greeted Section Chief Strauss politely but distantly.

“Whatever you may think, agents,” said Strauss coolly. “I had nothing to do with the interviews that are being conducted today. This is out of my hands.”

“Hotch, what’s going on?” asked Derek, but Hotch shook his head sharply indicating that he would tell them later.

The elevator door dinged and Lucifer stepped out talking to Rivers who was listening whatever he was talking about. The club owner seemed like he was in a great mood, and smiled the moment he saw them. He stepped up to kiss the back of Strauss’ right hand and warmly greeted her with an expression that deserved the term ‘devilish charm.’

Strauss melted like ice in the sun.

“Lucifer,” said Hotch softly. “Your interview will be conducted in the office next to mine. We have orders not to tell you anything about the identity of either of the two evaluators, but-“

“That’s enough, Agent Hotchner,” Strauss interrupted. “Mr. Morningstar, good luck. Please, let Agent Rivers show you the way.”

“Certainly,” smiled Lucifer, the only being in the room unaffected by the obvious tension in the air. “Agent Rivers, if you might?”

They watched as he stepped inside the room, and then he was gone.

“You should probably continue working on your cases,” said Strauss. “This is going to take a while.” With that, she brusquely walked away.

“Hotch?” asked Derek.

As soon as the Section Chief was out of earshot, Hotch shook his head, “Okay, so he’ll have Dr. William Thomas.”

Derek nodded. That made sense. Dr. Thomas was the most experienced psychiatrist in Quantico; he had evaluated hundreds including Derek and Hotch. He was also the independent assessment for Reid. He was strict, calm and fair. This could not possibly the reason why they were worried.

“No, but another agency butted in,” said Rossi after Derek voiced his thoughts.

“Who?” asked JJ, confused. “More importantly: why?”

“You’ll never guess this,” answered Rossi derisively. “The CIA.”

“What?” Garcia exclaimed. “Why? They’re foreign, not domestic. They’ve no law enforcement function. I don’t-“

“Does Lucifer have any history with the CIA? Did he ever mention anything to you?” mused Hotch, looking at his team as if they knew more about Lucifer than he did.

“No, man,” answered Derek quietly.

“Well, given Lucifer’s true identity and his almost painful honesty, it seems unlikely that nobody ever made the jump from ‘he seems to think it’s real’ to ‘let’s assume it’s real.’ Who knows, perhaps the CIA has investigated this in the past?” Reid chimed in. “But Dr. Thomas is a great guy who abhors the CIA interrogation technqiues, so Lucifer’s going to be fine.”

“He would be if Dr. Thomas were actually in the office, but the Bureau gave the CIA operatives permission to question Lucifer first.”

“Oh God,” exclaimed Emily, looking up toward the closed blinds that blocked them from seeing anything that happened inside.

As if on cue, the door opened, and two CIA agents, a man and a woman, left the office, both looking alarmingly pale.

Lucifer peaked outside.

“Bye!” He waved his fingers and the CIA agents sped up, not looking back. “Agent Rivers, darling, please fetch Dr. Thomas for me. I think he’s the one that’s supposed to be questioning me now.”

His casual, cheerful voice was somehow terrifying.

“Wait!” exclaimed Derek, charging after the agents. “What happened in there?”

The man’s chalk-white face gave him the answer before the agent opened his mouth, “He’s the real deal, isn’t he?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” answered Derek without a moment’s hesitation.

“Don’t worry,” said the woman, looking no less shaken than the man. “We’re not trying to take him away from you. Hel-“ she choked on the word before continuing. “You don’t know what he is. If the FBI wants to play with fire, be my guest.”

“Funny,” replied Derek coolly. “He got me out of one. What does the CIA know about Morningstar?”

“That is classified,” was the predictable response. “But if I were you, I’d stay away.”

“No can do,” smiled Derek calmly, thinking of that gentle, playful soul who was about to be evaluated by a psychiatrist who could not comprehend the sheer complexity of his experiences and his mind. “He’s one of us.”

Still pale, they were about to leave, but Rossi cleared his throat, “You’re not going to cause any trouble, are you?”

“No,” choked the female agent. “Give us some credit. You want him, you can have him.”

With that they left.

“What was that?” asked Emily as soon as Rossi and Derek rejoined the group.

“Looks like they _know _Lucifer, but they seem to have come to a different conclusion than we did,” answered Rossi.

“Their loss,” was Hotch’s cool reply. “I guess antagonizing him is not the best of tactics. I do wonder what they did to him, however. Lucifer doesn’t usually scare people unless he’s punishing someone.”

“He’ll tell us at a later date, I’m sure. All we need to do is ask.”

* * *

Dr. Bill Thomas entered the floor that occupied the BAU and the Hostage Rescue Team (HRT). He had been responsible for the evaluation of almost every member under fifty-two admitted to work here. These people were some of the best agents the FBI had to offer and he took pride in the fact that he had never made a wrong call.

He would still argue that Elle Greenaway had been a proper match for the BAU. After all, she had been an expert on sexual offense crimes, a form of crime with which the BAU had to deal regularly. It had taken an exceptional trauma for her to lose faith in her unit and later, her job. However, he would admit to underestimating just how much residual anger she had held from her time in the sex crime unit of the NYPD.

Bill gave Agent Hotchner a respectful nod. He was not too happy with the instructions he had been given to evaluate Mr. Morningstar, and he would do his best to defy these orders unless he saw reason to follow the brass’ command. He knew the BAU; he had asked for their consult dozens of times. They were the absolute elite in terms of human behavior and deserved some recognition for their expertise beyond ‘serial killer hunters,’ a moniker that represented only a fraction of their actual tasks. He had worked with David and Jason for years, had always viewed them as exceptional minds, but what Agent Hotchner and Jason created with this team was exceptional: a unit where every individual was an integrate part of a whole. These individual traits were held in high regard, but every single member was willing to put aside their ego to uphold the honor code of the Bureau.

David was slowly beginning to understand that, and these dynamics fascinated the experienced profiler, which was why Bill was confident that the old fox would soon put aside his feuds and ‘I’m-the-man’ attitude to become the BAU’s grumpy, old dad who made sure everyone, especially Agent Hotchner, was okay. Agent Prentiss was the only team member he had never talked to in an official capacity; she had slipped through the cracks instigated by Erin who – at the time – had no idea just how special this team was.

And now Bill had yet another potential member to interview.

He could tell from the team’s reaction that they were worried, which was interesting given that he had been the one to interview Dr. Reid whose intelligence level was beyond anything Bill had ever witnessed, but whose emotional stability was just barely acceptable. Dr. Reid had aced the interview, of course, because that brilliant young man would never fail a test, but Bill knew just how much emotional baggage came with that brilliance. Still, admitting him to the BAU had been the right choice.

Bill wondered what kind of person Mr. Morningstar was if the entire team was anxious to have him but also worried that he would not be accepted.

He pressed the handle and opened the door.

“Hello.”

‘_Oh boy.’_

* * *

An hour later, Bill was officially impressed.

Not only with Mr. Morningstar but with the BAU’s ability to coach him. All of his answers were honest if a bit impersonal at times; he was the poster boy of an excellent hiring choice for the BAU.

The problem was that Lucifer Morningstar was everything but a poster boy.

“I’m now going to switch to another set of questions now,” said Bill softly. “Please know that you can put a stop to this whenever you want to.”

“I know how this works, doctor,” was the reply, reminding Bill about Mr. Morningstar’s honesty regarding his therapist, Dr. Linda Martin. It was a wonderful change from how officers of law enforcement usually tended to operate: ignore the hurt until you explode or you’re burned out.

“Your family.”

Dark eyes met his, and for one moment, Bill was afraid of this man.

“Yes?”

“Your records tell me that you grew up in a religious cult, _the Celestial Family._Your parents named you Lucifer.”

“No, they named me Samael,” was the tense reply.

Horrified, Bill stared at his latest patient, “They made you Fall.”

“Dad did. Mum watched.”

Was it just him or was the room heating up?

“I’m sorry,” exhaled Bill softly. “So, after falling, you assumed the name Lucifer?”

“No, I was named Lucifer after-while I was still with the family. I don’t go by the old name anymore and I would prefer it if you didn’t say it again.”

That was more than just understandable.

“Did they hurt you?” asked Bill, his tone calm and quiet. “Falling must have been painful.”

“Unimaginably,” whispered Mr. Morningstar through gritted teeth. He was too tense.

“Then let’s talk about something else. Would you mind telling me why you held onto the name Morningstar? It is highly unlikely that this is your actual family name. When you first came to LA, why didn’t you choose another name? Any other name?”

“Because it’s who I am,” was the reply, not as tense as before, but there was a lot of underlying pain to that statement.

Trying to lighten the mood while still staying on topic, Bill switched gears, “You know I’ll never understand why Lucifer was called ‘the star of the morning.’ There is no indication for him being the first angel. The most powerful of them, certainly, but not the first. Lightbringer, I understand, the maker of stars. But morning star? Not only does it refer to Venus, but it also indicates that he was the oldest…”

Mr. Morningstar chuckled lowly, “That is a good question, Dr. Thomas. Humanity refers to the fallen angel as the brightest object in the sky because even the most burned out of angels may still glow brighter than any other object ever could. As for being the first, well, before the Lightbringer, there was no life apart from God, his wife and their three children Amenadiel, time, Raguel, radiation and matter, and Michael, the Guardian and General of the Silver City. With the Light came life and with life…” A deep sigh. “My siblings like to claim that the Lightbringer created both light and darkness, but that’s not… Raguel created the energy but for the universe to become livable, stars had to form, and for stars to form, energy had to condense. With that, absolute darkness formed. The Lightbringer didn’t create the darkness; it’s just a natural consequence of making the Light.”

For a brief moment, Bill considered just how heartbreaking and unbelievably soul-wrenching it had to be to forever be the family’s scapegoat, as Mr. Morningstar was for his family. Yet, here he was, turning himself inside out to be part of a team that Bill knew worked mostly as a family unit rather than coworkers that became friends.

“Tell me about your time in LA.”

He had long gone past the mandatory hour, but he honestly did not want the session to end.

* * *

“Two hours, forty-two minutes,” said Garcia nervously. “That can’t be good. Is this good? I thought the evaluation takes about an hour.”

“This is uncommonly long. Dr. Thomas’ longest assessment was with Reid, which lasted two hours,” commented Hotch.

“That’s good, right? Reid was still admitted to the team,” retorted Garcia, wringing her hands nervously. “I hope Lucifer is okay.”

“Garcia, I wouldn’t worry too much,” said Emily. “He’s the devil. He can handle himself.”

The fact she was able to say that without any sarcasm told her a lot about their current lives.

“Hotch, what do you think?” asked Morgan softly, his arms wrapped soothingly around Garcia’s shoulders.

“I think that Dr. Thomas is the best possible option we could have hoped for, and since Lucifer handled the CIA so effectively, I have faith that he’ll leave a positive impression on Dr. Thomas, unless – and this is my fear – the agents agitated him and Lucifer is on the defensive. However, I know Dr. Thomas. He would have stopped the session long before that if he felt that Lucifer was too agitated,” was the neutral assessment.

Ten minutes later, after a fierce five-minute discussion between Garcia and Morgan about why she should not have another cup of coffee, the door opened and Lucifer left with Dr. Thomas, still talking, but both seemed to be in a good mood. Gallantly, Lucifer led the way. They were within earshot for only a few moments and the nature of the conversation was interesting.

“-oh, she’ll love it trust me.”

“-and you really think that viagra isn’t necessary?”

“No, no. I’ve had my fair share of older male lovers and viagra just adds to the performance anxiety they all suffer from. Young men too, these days. The men feel inadequate because they think that without an erect penis, you cannot satisfy your lovers and the females fear that they’re not attractive enough… It’s all hubris. You focus on her, and everything else will fall in place. Trust me, it’s-“

With wide eyes, Emily looked from one team member to the next.

Rossi closed his eyes, and Hotch just chuckled, shaking his head.

“When will we be meeting with Bill?” asked Rossi, who appeared to be questioning every decision that had caused him to return to the BAU.

“He hands in the report tomorrow morning and he’s scheduled to talk to Strauss tomorrow at nine o’clock. He’ll meet with the two of us at eleven. Lucifer’s physical fitness tests are scheduled for tomorrow afternoon. How did it go?”

Emily turned her head to get a full view of Lucifer’s profile; the nightclub owner seemed to be quite content.

“Well, I think. For the first hour, he asked precisely the kind of questions we discussed, but then he asked me more personal questions, starting with my family.”

“Oh boy,” exclaimed Rossi, voicing Emily’s reaction almost _verbatim_. “How did you react?”

“Appropriately,” answered Lucifer, “I hope. He’s very easy to talk to. This took far longer than expected, Agent Hotchner, and I have another meeting lined up.”

“Of course,” accepted Hotch immediately, though Emily knew he wanted to hear more. “We’ll see you tomorrow at noon.”

* * *

“Dr. Thomas, come in,” said Aaron softly. “Your evaluation of Lucifer is exceptionally positive. I am glad you agree with our personal assessment. I’m not going to ask you about your meeting with Section Chief Str-“

“Aaron,” he was interrupted by his colleague. “Please, I know you’re younger than me, but I hold you in very high esteem and I think it’s time we call each other by our first names. What I told Section Chief Strauss is almost exactly what you were able to read in the report. I believe that he’s mentally capable of dealing with the stress that comes from working with the BAU and that he will greatly contribute to this team. As I understand your strategy, you often have to think like an UnSub in order to catch them and he’s uniquely qualified to do so. He understands darkness to an almost frightening degree, but I have no fear that said darkness might consume him. On the contrary, he might be the beacon your team needs to stay afloat during your worst cases, like, let’s say _the Womb Raider _as the press so distastefully called Thomas Yates.”

“But…” Aaron prompted him.

“That’s all I told Strauss and I see no reason why he shouldn’t join your team. You all want him. I’m not going to be the one to refuse that,” continued Dr-Bill.

“But?” chimed in Dave.

“Take care of him in return. He’ll excel with the dark cases, but that’s not all you hunt. Sometimes, horrible circumstances lead to horrible mistakes. He understands motivation like greed, crimes of passion, sadism, the darkest of human drives. He rejects them on a very profound level, but he has intimate knowledge of these instincts. However, when I gave him a hypothetical scenario of a mother smothering a child to keep it from starving to death, he… folded. I’ve a lot of experience with grief, but that expression was heartbreaking, as if he had personal experience with such matters. He looked both young and ancient when he replied that nothing the justice system did to punish such a crime could ever rival with the eternal guilt she would face. He’ll need you when you have cases like that.”

“Thank you, Bill, for telling us that. We’ll be there for him,” assured him Aaron immediately. “Anything else?”

“He has profound issues with both of his parents, as I’m sure you know. Normally, I would note that in my assessment, but then, this is the BAU. Childhood trauma due to or caused by one or more parent is practically a hiring requirement.”

All too intelligent eyes fixed Aaron who accepted the jab with a soft nod.

Aaron took a moment to look out of the window so that he could observe Lucifer talking to a lady in her early to mid-sixties, a bright smile on his face.

“Your wife, Bill?” asked Dave who had followed his gaze.

“Yes, this is my Sophie. She wanted to meet Mr. Morningstar.”

* * *

“How did you know…” Sophie whispered, making sure that nobody could hear her, and she hoped that Mr. Morningstar knew what she was asking. “I never…”

“Because people, especially women, were never taught to talk about pleasure. It’s a dirty, forbidden thing to be performed in a darkened room where no one can see and nobody can hear you,” he replied gently, his voice low and sultry.

“Bill and I always had a very…” She stopped. It was true. They had not talked about _that _in a while. She could barely think about it. Yet, last night had been the best night of her life, and she just needed to give something back. “He told me you’ve had elderly lovers over the years, both male and female…” She lowered her voice even further, but he heard her because his smile widened.

“Not many, comparatively, but yes, certainly,” said he, sounding quite excited to hear more from her.

“So, how do I make him…?” she could not say it and turned beet red.

“Oh darling,” he grasped her hands. “I can assure you that he already worships the ground you walk on. Anyway, there’s nothing wrong with a little bit of fun in the bedroom. Now, in my experience…”

* * *

“What do you think these two are talking about?” asked Reid, frowning cluelessly, unlike Morgan whose eyes were wide recognizing _that _blush on Dr. Thomas’ wife.

“I don’t want to know,” muttered Emily, turning back to her files.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> References:  
https://people.howstuffworks.com/fbi4.htm
> 
> Next up: Improper Procedure (the physical fitness test)


	5. Improper Procedure

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lucifer has to go through the physical fitness test of the FBI.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love you guys soooo much. Thank you for the support. This story is so much fun to write!

“Look at you,” grinned Derek. For a man he had never seen out of a suit unless dressed in an expensive leather jacket that turned the heads of the straightest of men, it was amazing how much he could rock a dark-blue track suit, which looked no less tailored than his suits.

“At least it’s not a dress,” muttered Lucifer disgruntled, though he was smiling.

“Prejudiced much?” challenged Emily.

“Oh, don’t get me wrong. There is nothing wrong with dresses, and I have no qualms wearing them if only to step on the feet of those advocating for _Deuteronomy 22:5._”

“_’A woman shall not wear a man’s garment, nor shall a man put on a woman’s cloak, for whoever does these things is an abomination to the Lord your God,’_” Reid quoted immediately. “Not a real rule then?”

“All religious texts are fan fiction, usually a compound work produced by several authors over a prolonged period of time. Written by humans for humans. It’s only natural that they get things wrong. This one is particularly hilarious, however. Why would Dad even care about that? He put all of us in dresses. You should see my brother Amenadiel’s- on the other hand, it’s better if you don’t meet him.” He cleared his throat and Derek frowned, worried about this sudden change of tone. Lucifer caught himself quickly and continued. “Anyway, that warrior dress is what I’m referring to. I haven’t worn it in many years, but honestely, suits are humanity’s best fashion statement to date.”

“Lucifer,” said Derek slowly, still hung up on Amenadiel. “Your brother. Is he dangerous?”

“He’s an archangel, Agent Morgan. They’re all dangerous, but don’t worry, he would never kill a human. It’s one of Dad’s most important rules,” was the casual reply.

“I’m not so worried about myself. History has taught me that God and his angels couldn’t care less about the fate of a single person.”

For just one brief moment, he felt dangerously nauseous and he really needed another session with his counselor. As per regulations, Derek had been required to see him after the harrowing events during the LA case. However, they had both agreed that this experience combined with his past with Buford required a tighter schedule, and they were currently trying to see each other twice a week.

Unfortunately, this was not the only strain he was dealing with. His faith had taken a beating when he was just a kid and it never really recovered, only to resurface with some profound questions during the case with Floyd Feylinn Ferell. Then Garcia had been shot while his faith was still on shaky ground (‘_Day to day, indeed, Rossi.’_). And now, all of that had been shot to the High Heavens with meeting Lucifer. It had reeled the entire team, and Derek knew he could not discuss this with his usual counselor; contracting Dr. Linda Martin for this was not only highly inappropriate given that Lucifer was her patient, it would also never be accepted by the Bureau. He knew Hotch was looking into options and Dr. Thomas was on top of that list; that person, in turn, could then circle back to Dr. Martin, so that both counselors had someone to vent to. Still, they had to talk to Lucifer first, since they could not just reveal his secrets to anyone, not without his consent.

Getting lost in his head for a moment, he almost missed that Lucifer was still looking at him, his expression strained, “While I cannot defend Dad, you have to understand that my siblings are not all-knowing. It’s true that Amenadiel is focused on the big picture more than the fate of an individual soul, but he doesn’t actually enjoy human suffering.”

“But he doesn’t seem to give a damn about yours,” replied Derek harshly. “I’m pretty sure I’m not worth his time, and I’m grateful for that, but he sure as hell could hurt you.”

“No, he couldn’t.”

“I’ve seen that strained expression whenever he’s mentioned. You are nervous when it comes to him,” countered Derek.

“Yes, I am,” replied Lucifer honestly, “but not for the reasons you think. Amenadiel can’t touch me,” he smirked. “He may be Heaven’s greatest warrior, but he can’t win against me.”

“Then why are you nervous?”

“Because he’ll be the one dragging me back to Hell the moment Dad gives permission,” replied Lucifer.

“You just said he can’t win,” Reid countered, confused.

“If I fight back,” clarified the devil calmly.

“Why wouldn’t you?” asked JJ standing close by.

“Two archangels going at each other at full force on this plane of existence?” he exhaled sharply, his eyes far away. “I like this solar system too much for that. Besides, Dad would never allow it, so all hypotheticals are futile.”

That reminded Derek that the FBI was about to stress test a being that could literally break the Earth at will.

“Okay. Here,” said he handing over the piece of paper he had prepared. “These are the general scores and requirements for an agent with above-average fitness levels. Hotch and I agreed that you shouldn’t score too far above that. Do you think you can do that?”

Lucifer took one glimpse at the paper, and Derek, who had known Reid for years, could see him take in the information at record speed, “Surely, but you’ll have to explain how I can trick my body into reacting properly. One of my lovers, Natasha, was a sports medicine specialist working in Hollywood to support actors and actresses when they trained for a role. She told me that my resting heart rate was 32, which is apparently very low. She was so fascinated that she insisted on doing an EKG – our foreplay was very interesting, I must say – and apparently, I have the heart rate of a top athlete and the EKG pattern of a race horse. She was too distracted to do any additional tests. I’ve learned to breathe and adjust my heart rate upon excitement, because it freaks out my lovers otherwise, but I’m not sure how a stress test is supposed to change my echocardiogram or my pulse.”

“Reid,” breathed Derek. “You have twenty minutes to explain to Lucifer how to make his body react like that of a very fit human being during stress testing.”

Reid, all too happily, instantly launched into an explanation to which Lucifer listened intently.

“Is everything alright?” asked Hotch.

“I’m sorry, Hotch, this is on me. We were so focused on him passing psych, I didn’t realize…”

“Morgan,” said his boss softly. “I’ve seen you train agents meticulously for their physicals and you’ve made all of them pass even if they did not originally meet the requirements. You’re known to be tough but fair throughout the Bureau. The fact you didn’t consider that our latest recruit isn’t human is… perfectly understandable. We’re all adapting as quickly as possible, but I honestly didn’t foresee that either. Lucifer, do you think you can follow Reid’s instructions?”

“Absolutely,” was the dismissive reply. “So, now you’re allowed to coach me?”

“You were cleared by Dr. Thomas,” explained Hotch. “There are no regulations against a team coaching or supporting a recruit for the physical fitness test.”

“You’re doing this very much by the book, Agent Hotchner,” teased Lucifer good-naturedly.

“Yes, because I want you in our team and I don’t want to do anything that might jeopardize your instatement.”

It was interesting and kind of heartbreaking to realize that the best way to render the devil speechless was to honestly admit that they wanted him.

Derek clasped his shoulder companionably, “We’ll be there cheering you on, man. Look, Garcia even brought the pom-poms this time.” He nodded over to Garcia who was holding two tiny cheerleading balls in her hands. Lucifer chuckled and glided over to Derek’s baby girl to tell her just how ravishing she looked.

“If you’re ready,” Derek continued, once Lucifer returned to their desk with Garcia at his arm. “I’ll call Paul. He’ll conduct today’s tests.”

“Paul? Agent Paul Francis?” Reid, clarified looking horrified. “Why would you agree to that? He’s mean.”

“Yeah,” confirmed Emily grimly. “He’s a sexist ass, too.”

“Really, do tell,” said Lucifer curiously, tilting his head in response.

“Oh yes,” said JJ. “Whenever he puts women through the wringer, he usually insists on doing more upper body strength exercises like pull-ups and push-ups than he would demand of a man going through the same assessment. He usually puts you through a 1.5-mile run, which you have to repeat if you don’t make it in 12:30, which is slightly above average for men in their 20s to 40s but really pushing it for the women. After that, he makes you do pull-ups and push-ups before putting you through the self-defense training.”

“He’s also always mean to Reid,” Garcia continued angrily. “Remember last time, Morgan? You swore this was the last time Francis is in charge of Reid’s evals.”

“Yeah, I know, but coaches are on a rotating schedule,” said Derek.

Which was the truth.

“This sucks,” JJ exclaimed, then smiled sympathetically. “Well, at least he won’t be bothering Lucifer much. He’s most definitely a guy.”

“Yes, but not a dominant one,” Reid protested, obviously worried. “Agent Francis has an aggressive alpha male type personality. Lucifer is very open about his own sexuality. Francis might take this is an affront and-“ Then he seemed to realize who he was talking about and cleared his throat. “Forget it.”

“What did he do to you, young one?” asked Lucifer quietly and Reid dismissed his choice of words while simultaneously giving an account of the harassment Francis had put him through. Derek approved of Lucifer’s less than kind expression.

* * *

“Agent Francis. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

_Uh-oh. _

Derek suddenly wanted that ever-flirtatious ‘hello’ back, because this current greeting was uttered coldly enough to freeze hell over (could Lucifer do that? Derek had to update the list of questions. Did Lucifer have anything to do with this turn of phrase?).

“Yeah, well, only the best, I hope,” chuckled Francis as they shook hands. His onceover indicated that he was not impressed with the slim frame in front of him.

“Not really, no. You have the reputation of being a bully. I don’t like bullies,” clarified Lucifer as if he needed to make sure that his point came across.

“What, the little wuss came running to you?” sneered Francis, and Derek was amazed by his utter lack of self-preservation.

“If by ‘wuss’ you refer to Dr. Spencer Reid, who could mentally run circles around you after suffering from a grade 3 concussion, then no, he didn’t. Look,” he sighed impatiently. “Why don’t we just start? I don’t like you, and I’m guessing you don’t like me very much either.”

His smile was positively predatory and Francis, thankfully, did not push things.

Instead, he started with the program. A young recruit who was also being tested today had to join Lucifer for the 1.5-mile run on the track. This had to be one of the most hilarious things Derek had ever witnessed. There was this young, well-trained, highly disciplined recruit who easily ran that distance in 10 minutes if he pushed it. He was running the distance grim-faced and focused while next to him was a chattering, cheerful Lucifer who did not even appear to break into sweat as he jogged along.

Francis’ eyes widened as he watched Lucifer prattling his way through the exercise as if it was nothing.

The 1.5-mile run was followed by various pull-up, push-up and sit-up excerises, which Lucifer followed through, amused and bewildered but no less enthusiastic as before, talking to two other agents who were going through re-evaluation and did not appreciate the chatter. His ease with all these exercises led to a second 1.5-mile run that he completed with another recruit in 9:55 followed by a 300-meter sprint. It was obvious that he performed above average, but that he did not use his body to full capactiy. However, Francis was unable to push him any further than meeting the requirements, which had to be frustrating beyond belief.

Derek would so buy that devil dinner tonight. He deserved it for making Reid, JJ and Emily smile that much.

Next up was self-defense evaluation. The reason for the evaluation was that Lucifer was not technically law enforcement and could not produce a list with the hours spent in self-defense training and he was now required to go through some exercises.

They moved the whole exercise indoors because it started to rain.

* * *

“Alright, so this is a move that my friend Mazikeen developed specifically after moving to LA,” Lucifer explained in the gym to his audience, pointing at Francis who was curled on the ground, moaning painfully and holding his groin. “We teach it to every staff member in my club regardless of gender, but the women are especially fond of it because it’s efficient and doesn’t take a lot of strength. Maze likes to call it ‘the Nutcracker.’” He looked over to Francis who was slowly getting up. “Quite adequately so.”

Derek knew he should not be enjoying this, but damn it if revenge did not feel good. Francis loved harassing his team members, especially Reid, and this was payback.

He was not the only one who agreed with that. Hotch and Rossi both looked satisfied with what they saw.

Word traveled fast in the Bureau and it looked like every woman who had suffered under Francis’ sexism decided to show up and watch his fall. There were almost thirty people watching, and the male members of the BAU were the only men present.

Apart from Agent Francis of course.

“Would anyone else like to try?” asked Lucifer. “I’m sure Agent Francis is up for another round.”

Derek mentally reminded himself to never, ever mess with a woman when he registered the number of hands being lifted in response.

“No,” croaked Agent Francis.

“Are you alright, Agent Francis? Your voice sounds a little high,” grinned Lucifer, coldly, not showing the slightest bit of remorse.

“You pass. Okay, you pass! I can’t hold you for anything anyway. Why are you doing this?” he asked.

Before demonstrating Maze’ signature move, Lucifer had not treated him too roughly, but not too gently either: a quick jab to the throat, a slap across the face. It had looked like he barely touched him whenever Francis tried for another attack, but every move counted and effectively incapacitated Francis.

Again and again.

“Not much. Just your word that you will adjust your training according to ability and gender. As‘the Nutcracker’ beautifully demonstrated: you don’t need hands to bust someone’s balls, crudely speaking, and a woman’s strength is in her legs not her arms, wouldn’t you say? Perhaps you should take that into consideration the next time you train women instead of reminding them of what they can’t do. Makes them much more efficient fighters, I’d say. Also, perhaps you should implement more _strategy_ instead of harassing the less athletically inclined into high performance. Any questions?”

“No, no, I got it,” coughed Agent Francis. “I will. I swear.”

“Thank you. I will hold you to that,” he smiled coldly before turning to his audience with a gleam in his eyes. “Now, ‘the Nutcracker’ can easily be mastered without actually cracking any nuts. Who wants to learn it? And who would like to assist me in teaching that move to the new staff members at my club? Opening night is on Saturday. Drinks are on me.”

Predictably, thirty hands shot up and Derek watched how multiple cell phones were pulled out typing messages that all said something along the lines of:

“GET DOWN HERE. GORGEOUS GUY TEACHES MOVES.”

“Sex On Legs invited us that new club in DC. Forget about paperwork and get here.”

“Francis got his balls busted. I have pictures.”

Yes, he definitely would never mess with the women at the Bureau.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next up: Welcome to Quantico


	6. Welcome to Quantico

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lucifer's first talk at the BAU does not quite go as planned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Almost over... Thank you so much for your support.
> 
> This chapter was a bit of a struggle, because my muse is a couple of chapters ahead and wasn't being cooperative.

“To our latest member, Lucifer Morningstar,” smiled Hotch, lifting the glass of champagne that Garcia had smuggled in. “Welcome! It is good to have you with us. Be prepared for inconvenient hours and being on call 24/7.”

“Hear hear!” exclaimed the rest of the team as they clinked their glasses together. Lucifer, suave and charming as ever, clinked all of their glasses, and smiled.

“Thank you, thank you so much,” replied Lucier, obviously touched by their joy. “So, when am I getting my badge?”

“It’s being made as we celebrate,” smiled Garcia. “I made sure it has priority.”

“Thank you, Ms. Garcia,” was the soft response to that before he grinned at Hotch, “And my gun?”

“As a permanent civilian consultant, you cannot have a gun unless formally trained, but if you want one, I am pretty sure we can arrange the training in-house,” replied Hotch promptly, which earned him a very fond look.

“While I’m always up for learning new things, I’m not sure what I would need a gun for. Pesky, useless, little things,” he commented.

“Useless little things that can kill, man,” countered Morgan softly. “They may not be able to hurt _you_, but they can very effectively harm the rest of us.”

After a moment of silence, Lucifer turned to Hotch, “Sign me up for these lessons, Agent Hotchner. I need to know how they work exactly.”

“I will. Now, we don’t have any cases that require our presence, but there are a number of consulting cases we need to work on. Before we have you on any case, however, I thought it would be best if Reid and Morgan gave you a bit of an overview regarding how we work, and when they’re working on cases, you could go through our old case files so that you can familiarize yourself with previously solved cases. How does this sound?”

“Perfect. I don’t have any appointments for today, tomorrow or on Friday with the exception of a contractor who will do the fine-tuning on a few things in the club and another appointment with the delivery of my piano grand.”

“Four weeks in DC and you have fully remodeled and furnished your new club and your new home,” stated Morgan, officially impressed. JJ knew how their colleague remodeled his homes in his free time. “Is it the same struture as Lux?”

“Yes and no. Since I found myself unwilling to live anywhere but as close to the stars as possible, I live in a penthouse. However, this time I actually bought the building, because both Jonathan and Natalia believe that my finances practically demanded it. This also gives me more leeway regarding my new home. The first three floor have been modelled similarly to Lux: ground floor – and no, I’m not calling it first floor, my dear Americans, because that isn’t a rational designation – is the club itself, then a floor for my patrons’ pleasure and another floor for other people’s pleasure. I am still thinking about what to do with floors four to seven.”

“Oh, you could-“ Garcia began, all too excited, but Morgan wrapped his arm around her shoulders.

“We’ll happily give you suggestions, man, but I would consider all the options, and then decide,” said he.

“That’s what I wanted to say,” protested Garcia.

“I hate to break this party up, people, but we still have work to do,” smiled Hotch and JJ answered it automatically. It was so good to see him smile, especially since the divorce. She had no doubt that hiring Lucifer significantly contributed to that.

“Of course,” accepted Lucifer. “Do I get to have a desk?”

“Yes, right over there,” said Hotch pointing to the arrangment of desks that also held Morgan’s, Emily’s and Reid’s workspaces. “You’re sharing the desk with Agent Sally from HRT. She’s currently on maternity leave and will return on a part-time basis, so you two should be able to coordinate easily. Anyway, for our old cases, it’s easiest if you access the archives directly, because it’s a lot of paperwork.”

“Certainly,” smiled Lucifer. “Sounds boring, but well, it’s better than waiting for a piano to arrive in order to initiate it prior to opening night.”

Shaking her head, JJ offered to take him to the archives and Garcia said that she would be watching him; a statement that delighted Lucifer who responded with ‘Ms. Garcia, how voyeuristic of you.’ Truth was, the Bureau required that, whenever a governmental contractor – civilian consultant – was given access to the Archive, a technical analyst of the FBI had to constantly observe the room to make sure no files were illegally removed. Rossi explained that to Lucifer just to make sure he understood that the Bureau was not very lenient when it came to leaks.

“Come on, I’ll show you the Archive,” offered JJ, and Lucifer happily trailed after her. This was the first time since they met and definitely the first time since his reveal that she was alone with him. She had deliberately orchestrated it that way in order to prove to herself that she could.

“So, my dear Agent Jareau, what would you like to talk to me about?” asked Lucifer as he leaned against the elevator wall, his expression tender.

“I’m sorry?” she chuckled, hoping to sound as confused as she was aiming for.

“You all have questions, most of which I’m sure will be gradually mixed into casual conversation over time, but there are personal ones you don’t want the others to know. Some of these questions have been asked and answered, others not so much. Of all of them, you’re the only one who hasn’t talked to me alone.”

And this taught her never to underestimate a being that could read your desires from the way your eyes shifted. She was intimately familiar with how profilers closed in on the information they wanted to obtain. Lucifer’s strategy was more direct, but he hit the core just as surely as Hotch, and that was saying a lot.

“It’s okay, you know,” he continued softly, still smiling. “To struggle with the big questions. Dr. Linda and Delilah have known for months and occasionally, they call me in the middle of the night about what they think must sound like silly questions to me, but they never are. There is no such thing as a stupid question.”

“What happens to people who commit suicide?” she blurted out. “I know what the bible says, but I need to know the truth. What happens to them?”

“Agent Jareau, I-“ His eyes told her everything she needed to know.

“Oh God, please,” she breathed. “Please tell me you didn’t punish her. Tell me you’re not torturing her.”

“God?” whispered Lucifer, his voice was very low and his dark eyes almost appeared black. If Roslyn’s face were not on the forefront of her mind, she would have backed away. But this was her sister! She could not let her suffer. “Let me tell you something about ‘God.’ You call for his assistance while it was his rules, _his_, that damn or bless you. I’m just forced to execute his laws.” He was trembling with anger, and fear coursed through her. Instinctively, she took a step back, hitting the elevator wall, a move that caused Lucifer to turn away from her.

“Apologies, Agent Jareau, I… had no say in the rule that suicide is a damnable sin, and I’ve challenged my father on the subject many times, but he hasn’t given me an inch. Therefore, I’m required to play by his book, but I am the devil, so I always have a few cards up my sleeve. Suicide is always damnable, and while some of these souls deserve punishment…” Jennifer, who was trying not to break into tears at the thought that her sister was being punished in Hell, nodded because quite a considerable number of UnSubs had committed suicide and they certainly deserved punishment. “Others do not. As a result, several demons check in on the hell-loops of those that committed suicide. Based on that, they can tell what they feel guilty for. If it appears like their only damnable sin was the self-killing itself, they call me.”

“And then you check?” she breathed.

“Yes,” confirmed Lucifer. “I ask them questions, and for the nature of their sins. For lack of a better term, I look into the depth of their souls, and if they don’t deserve the punishment, I talk them out of the Hell-loop and have them brought to Bastet.”

“Bastet?” repeated Jennifer, just as the elevator came to a stop. Her grip on her tears was not too strong, but she was holding on. “The Egyptian Goddess.”

“Yes, daughter of sun god Ra and, I am pretty sure, the source of the term ‘cat lady,’” he explained, obviously trying to lighten the mood. “More importantly, she is also referred to as the Empress. She rules a part of Hell, which I gave to her after she tried to usurp me, the little minx, just so that she would stop plucking my feathers.”

Jennifer started to giggle at that, even if sounded strained to her own ears.

“It’s not funny,” countered Lucifer indignantly. “It took her years until she accepted I wasn’t some bird… Anyway, cats are the best torturers but also uncontested gluttons for petting and pampering of any kind, so, instead of setting her furry arse on fire, we made a deal: She would never try to backstab me again and accept my rule als Lord of Hell, and she in turn would get her own little corner with souls to torture, but also with souls that would wait on Bastet’s cats, pampering them into eternity so to speak.”

Jennifer’s eyes widened, “You’re damning souls to cuddle kittens until the end of time?”

“Yes, well, kind of. They don’t know that. The idea of Bastet’s realm is the torment of one moment strechted into eternity. So one year on Earth is the equivalent of one second in Bastet’s realm, which stand in complete contrast to the rest of Hell, actually. I willed it so that Bastet could not plot against me without us knowing about it. There is only so far that I would trust a cat… It’s complicated. Who are you asking for?”

“Roslyn Jareau,” breathed JJ.

Lucifer looked at her for a moment, but his focus was elsewhere. He was obviously sifting through his memory.

“Roz?” he asked.

“Yes!” Jennifer exclaimed. “Yes. Where is she?”

“With Bastet. She’s taking care of a blond kitten that she named Jelly if I’m informed correctly,” he answered softly. A sob escaped her and tears burned in her eyes.

“Agent Jareau?” His expression, which had looked so very ancient before, was utterly lost.

“I loved eating jelly when I was little. She used to call me Jellyfer,” she managed to explain.

“Ah… That explains more than you think,” Lucifer nodded solemnly. “I cannot tell you that she’s in Heaven, but she is at peace, at least as far as Hell allows.”

The dam broke and she started to cry right there in the Archive with only Lucifer as a witness, thankfully. She remembered suffering from nightmares for weeks after her sister’s death – horrific dreams of Roz suffering – and then she remembered how these dreams had stopped. She was so relieved that Lucifer showed mercy, she could not even begin to put it into words. A feather-light touch on her left shoulder had her look up.

“I’m sorry,” said Lucifer brokenly. “I didn’t mean to distress you.”

“It’s not you, Lucifer,” whispered Jareau through uneven breaths. “I’m just glad she’s okay. Thank you for telling me the truth.”

“It’s all I ever do,” replied Lucifer softly.

Her tears subsided and she slowly got up, without hesitation taking the hand offered to her. She rubbed her face roughly, and tried to cover up her breakdown with a smile. His head was tilted, but he remained mercifully silent about her outburst.

“How did you know that my family called her Roz?” she asked, in order to shift the topic to something lighter.

“I know all the names of every soul in my domain, well, their soul-names at least. The names that imprint on your soul. From what I have seen so far, yours are JJ and Jennifer. Agent Hotchner’s are ‘Hotch’ and ‘Aaron.’”

“So nicknames are soul-names?”

“Not always, but they can be.”

“Let me guess, one of Garcia’s is Baby Girl.”

“But of course,” smiled Lucifer, still very soft. “Are you sure you’re alright?”

“Yes,” she patted his hand. “I’m sorry, not just for my outburst, but for blaming you.”

“That’s how it’s been since your species’ earliest memory, Agent Jareau,” said he quietly. “I am the torturer of damned souls, so your question was actually more than justified.” For a brief moment, self-loathing was as clear in his eyes as if someone had carved it into his heart. “Don’t confuse me for a kind, gentle ruler. Hell doesn’t allow weakness.”

Yet, he had personally guided her sister’s soul to a place where she would find peace. Yeah, she called BS on that. On impulse, she grasped his wrist, and covered his right hand with hers.

“Thank you,” was all she said, then managed to switch to a somewhat more professional demeanour and let him know where all their case files were. He accepted the change without question and Jennifer was very grateful for it.

Once she was back on their floor, it should not surprise her to see Hotch next to her office asking how she was feeling.

“You knew I would totally lose it in his presence, didn’t you?” asked JJ with a wry grin.

“I’m sure he understood,” was all he said in response and Jennifer was once again reminded just how observant her boss was. She deeply admired Spence’ intellect, but what Hotch did not have in sheer brainpower (though the man was as smart as a whip), he made up for with an unparalleled understanding of human behavior.

“Yes, he did, but he didn’t deserve that,” was what she said in response.

“As long as you told him that, everything is fine,” said he.

“I did, but I don’t think the message came through to him,” she observed.

“We’re trying to break eons of conditioning here, and he won’t always be receptive to it,” said Hotch calmly. “I’m not sure if we can ever make him realize that we won’t use him as a scapegoat when things get rough and that we intend on holding him accountable only for his own mistakes and not mistakes projected onto him. The entire team will have to remain vigilant and make sure we never do.” After a moment of silence, he changed subjects. “You’ve evaded my question. How are you feeling?”

“You know,” said she softly. “I always knew something terrible happened after her death, and to be assured that it’s not as bad as I feared. That she’s at peace… I’m good.” It was hard to explain that, for the first time in years, she could breathe again.

“I’m glad,” said Hotch softly. “Let me know if you need something.”

“Thank you, Hotch.” With that, she stepped into her office only to be hugged by Garcia.

“Girl, are you okay?” their technical analyist asked, mother-hen mode at full display.

“Garcia, shouldn’t you be at the monitors? I trust Lucifer, but if the Bureau finds out-“

“Don’t worry, JJ,” babbled Garcia. “Kevin is helping me out, because you totally need a chocolate milkshake now.”

“Garcia, I have so many cases to review-“

“Milkshake, now, executive decision. Come on!”

* * *

Two hours later, of which she had spent thirty minutes with Garcia sipping on a milkshake letting herself be cuddled by her friend, she had reviewed five cases that were all BAU material. Hotch was with the Emily, Morgan and Spence undoubtedly discussing a case, so she joined them with a file she needed to discuss with her boss. Before she could even open her mouth, Garcia’s quick steps alerted her arrival.

“Hey, guys?” said she nervously. “Remember how we told Lucifer to read through some of our old cases while Morgan and Boy Genius are busy with current cases.”

“Yes?” replied Hotch, honestly puzzled.

“Yeah, perhaps, we shouldn’t have,” she continued, her eyes wide. “He’s read through them. All of them. Dating back to your first cases, Hotch. The devil’s in the Archive, sir.” She spoke very quickly to cover up her nervousness, failing hopelessly.

“Garcia,” frowned Morgan. “We all know he’s the devil.”

“Yeah, no, but he’s… red, you know, the whole ‘burned skin, glowing eyes, deeper voice than usual’? Whole shabang? Yeah, _that_ devil’s sitting in the FBI Archive, you know, where there are cameras, HD cameras, with about seventeen outlets, and color? Kevin is currently looping the feed after I kind of hacked our mainframe and erased the already stored images, but you should really go to him, I think. Perhaps calm him down a little?” While she spoke, Morgan, Emily and Hotch were already walking to the elevators, outwardly calm, but their steps were quick and brusque.

Spence exhaled sharply, and waved down Rossi who had naturally noticed that something was up.

“Oh, and you could come and help me calm down Kevin. He’s been saying ‘oh shit’ on repeat since he started looping, and Kevin really doesn’t curse a lot.”

“Wait, I thought he knew?” said Rossi, whom Spence had informed very quickly, confused. “Didn’t Lucifer take one look at him and say something along the lines of ‘_you can tell him, Ms. Garcia. He’s a good one’_ after we went out for drinks_?_ Just like he agreed to LaMontagne knowing after that dinner with JJ?”

“Yes, and I told him,” confirmed Garcia as they quickly walked toward her office.

“But?” Rossi inquired.

“No ‘but.’ We even discussed the implications of immortality and why the devil would go to LA of all places and-Oh God, he thought I was speaking in metaphors. He was totally talking about Gaiman’s _The Sandman_, didn’t he? How could I not see that?”

“Because we all seem to live two lives now?” suggested Spencer. “It’s only been thirty-two days and twenty hours since we received irrefutable proof for the existence of the divine, but sometimes I struggle with the realization that I didn’t always know. It seems strange in retrospect to not have accepted the existence of Heaven and Hell as fact. Lucifer is also really, really good at making it all sound logical. Laws of physics still exist, the recent advances in research, it’s all real, there is just an additional dimension to it that I was unaware of, and it’s so fascinating to learn, I-“

“Reid,” interrupted Rossi. “Kevin Lynch? Existential crisis?”

“Oh, right, sorry!”

They opened the door to Garcia’s _lair_.

“Oh shit, this isn’t good, oh no…” they heard him mutter.

“Kevin, honey?” asked Garcia gently. “How’s the loop goin-?”

“Don’t go in there!” Kevin shouted. While most screens showed an empty Archive, one small frame showed what was actually happening. Hotch, Prentiss and Morgan entered, and – probably upon the sound of an opening door – Lucifer assumed his human form. His devilish appearance was far less imposing over a screen, probably because one was not hit by the aura that surrounded him. In a way, it was almost like watching a movie.

She would not tell Kevin that; the technical analyst already looked about two seconds away from passing out. They all watched as Hotch stepped forward to talk to Lucifer who angrily pointed at a stack of files, to which Hotch had to say something that did not impress the devil in the slightest because he rolled his eyes.

“Garcia,” said Rossi, addressing their tech wiz kindly. “We’re taking care of Kevin, and you make sure none of these images were stored anywhere.”

“Okay, I can do that. Okay, here we go,” said Garcia and started to type, while Rossi slowly approached Kevin. “I know this is a lot-“

“’_I’m Lucifer, Lucifer Morningstar.’” _he burst out. “What devil would ever use such a non-disguise, hiding in plain sight? What on Earth is this? I figured his parents were just huge _Sandman _fans, you know, the graphic novels!”

“They came out in 1989; we doctored Lucifer’s DOB to be 1978…”

“Okay, so what?” Kevin blurted out. “I just saw this gorgeous, alluring personification of the term ‘desire’ and all I thought was that this was exactly what my very fresh, very precious relationship needed, next to a real-life version of James Bond that calls Penelope ‘baby girl’: some super-hot, super-rich club owner flirting with her, but then I accepted it, because she still – even with these two superior male specimens in plain sight – thinks I’m worth her time… So, I didn’t really think that when she said ‘devil’ she meant ‘devil’, I thought she meant ‘handsome devil,’ you know, like ‘chocolate thunder-’”

“Kevin, breathe,” said Reid calmly. “Remember Lucifer Morningstar from the comics? What he’s like? He’s not a villain.”

“No, but he sure as hell isn’t good. He’s chaotic neutral at best. You better not cross or try to hurt him-“

“Well, I can tell you that the Lucifer we met isn’t even that,” said Spence firmly. “He hates hurting people; he despises the job his father forced him to do. Yet, he is here, willing to help us do an almost identical job, because it’s his duty.”

“And what if he just wants to seduce you, bring you to the dark side?” suggested Kevin.

“The guy made the stars and was able to go toe to toe with his father before Falling,” countered Rossi. “What could possibly be his goal in leading us astray?”

“I don’t know,” answered Kevin helplessly. “Perhaps corrupting some of the best, most courageous people I’ve ever met is what he needs to do in order to usurp his father.“

“Oh Kevin,” whispered Garcia. “Honey, while this is the sweetest thing anyone ever said about us, there are about a million easier ways to do that than corrupting a bunch of FBI agents. For example, doing that with world leaders, be they religious or political.”

“Yeah, you’re right,” conceded Kevin. “But still, that was…”

“Try witnessing it for real,” said Jennifer wryly, which gave her an idea. “Especially up close. Morgan was the one to stand right next to Lucifer for the reveal, but out of all of us, he came around the fastest.”

“Really?” Kevin perked up.

“Oh yeah,” continued Jennifer, feeling awful for playing into Kevin’s insecurity when it came to Morgan, but if this was what it took to fight his panic, then so be it. “I was impressed. Spence?”

“Oh yes,” Spencer confirmed the story, but his tone was not very convincing. “Morgan took to it like champ.”

While the statement was correct, Spencer knew what she was playing at, and could he sound any more like he was just indulging her?

“Well then, if _chocolate-thunder-supersoldier_ can deal with that, then so can I,” muttered Kevin determinedly. Rossi, looking over Kevin’s shoulder to meet Jennifer’s gaze, nodded his approval. It took their Garcia only a few more minutes to create a fake file that made it look like Lucifer entered with JJ and left with Hotch and the others two hours later, proving yet again just how amazing she was (and that they would be screwed if she were an UnSub). They were just about ready to leave when Morgan, Hotch and Emily entered with Lucifer not far behind.

Kevin shot up from his chair, “Oh hi, Mr. Devil. I mean Mr. Morningsatan, I mean Devil Devil.” His eyes widened comically as his mouth continued to utter senseless words that he seemed to have no control over. “Please, don’t eat my soul!”

Lucifer looked utterly confused, “Now why on Earth would I want to eat your soul? Do I look like a crocodile-hippo-lion hybrid to you? Besides, Ammit would be very upset if I started eating souls.”

“The Devourer of Hearts exists,” breathed Kevin. “Of course, she does. Oh God, help me!”

JJ winced at his choice of words, but instead of true anger, there was only frustration.

“Again with calling for _Dad._ Why does everyone always call for Dad? It’s not like he ever helps you. And soul eating is punishment and punishment is my domain, _mine_, not his. He didn’t want to get his hands dirty, so I’m all humanity’s got and besides,-“

“Lucifer,” Spence interrupted the rant. “Kevin thought you and Garcia were just flirting and he-“

“Oh,” Lucifer’s mouth closed in response to Reid’s comment. “Well then, Mr. Lynch, you have my word that I will never your-last-name you. I don’t hurt innocents.”

Kevin stared at him for a long time, “So you don’t hunt for souls on the Earthly plane to wage a war against your Dad?”

“Dr. Reid, how many lighters does it take to rival the sun?”

“I cannot really answer that question, because they’re not the same thing. But going by temperature, an average butan lighter can theoretically reach almost 2000 °C, but it is more likely that the maximum temperature is about 800-900 °C. The sun surface burns at around 5600 °C and the core at 15’000’000 °C; if we take volume into consideration, the flame of a lighter is about 5E-10 cubic meters and the total volume of the sun is 1.4E+27 cubic meters, so if we go with the lowest estimate and assume that the sun burns at 2000 °C everywhere-“

“Reid,” sighed Hotch.

“At least 6E+36 lighters,” summarized Reid.

“The universe holds appoximately 10 billion galaxies, each holding an average of 100 billion stars,” stated Lucifer calmly. “I made them. Dad made me. A human soul’s a lighter in comparison.”

“So… useless,” concluded Morgan.

“For a war against Dad, if I were interested in that, yes. But… I have a certain fondness for that precious, little light you humans emit,” commented Lucifer, undoubtedly serious. He then turned to Reid. “I’ve been assured that, apart from a select few, most of your _UnSubs_ have met human justice and can wait for celestial justice until I get back, so I won’t dwell on that, but what you need to know is that no archangel would be as cold or as murderous as Tobias Hankel imagined, least of all Raphael. It would break his heart knowing what was done in his name.”

Reid swallowed hard and whispered quietly, “I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Do that,” said Lucifer softly, and then – as if unwilling to let the mood settle – addressed them all with a smile. “You all have to come on Saturday.” He then handed them cards. “These will allow you free and direct entry. I won’t be with you for the most part, since I have patrons to attend to, but it will give you the chance to explore my new home.”

“Unless a case comes up, we will be there,” promised Hotch. “Again, your first day did not exactly go as planned-“ he began, but Lucifer lifted his hand.

“Thank you, Ms. Garcia, for covering it up, and thank you, Mr. Lynch for helping her. Thank you all for making sure I was fine. Me changing form had little to do with loss of control or distress,” he assured them. “It is true that, as I delved into these files, I forgot about the cameras, mostly because I was too focused on thinking of ways to punish the cretins you brought behind bars or that were sent directly to Hell because they were killed in the process. I’m the devil, thinking of ways to torture evil souls was one of my primary tasks.” He let that settle in for a moment. “Agent Hotchner reminded me, however, that it is not my task to exact physical punishment on the living, though he also realizes that sometimes, my special brand of punishment will be necessary to make sure that those committing acts of genuine evil will receive their due long before they die. We will have to hash out the details of this arrangement, of course.”

“And that will require patience and understanding,” Hotch continued. “You are now intimately familiar with how we operate, and both Morgan and Reid will guide you through our current process. In return, we must acquire a better understanding of how you, Lucifer, see the world, and how you decide upon punishment, and how we can transfer these principles from Hell onto your stay on Earth.”

“When do we start?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't double-check the Reid math. I didn't. Let's just assume he's right because he's Reid :)


	7. Welcome To The Stars

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Opening night at the club...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's it! One story, approx. 20k words, one week... Not bad.
> 
> Many thanks to all of you for your constant, overwhelming support!

Naturally, a case landed on their desk on Friday morning. Lucifer was left behind, because the paperwork was not finished yet, and he had a club to open.

Thankfully, they resolved the case quickly and timely, but it was still seven o’clock on Saturday by the time they were back in Quantico. They were all exhausted, but they had promised, so they gathered their things, changed into something a bit more casual (since they practically lived there anyway, they all had brought about a quarter of their wardrobe to their lockers at Quantico), and took the 1-hour drive to Lucifer’s address. Emily was driving with Will LaMontagne Jr., JJ and Reid. The club was smack in the middle of Downtown Washington DC, near but not in immediate vicinity of other clubs. They arrived at the club and were not particularly surprised to see a long line of people curious to get in, what surprised them, however, was to see a familiar face.

“Mr. Meyer,” exclaimed Hotch, “what a surprise! So, you decided to go with Lucifer?”

“Yes, Agent Hotchner,” said the security guard good-naturedly. “Murad always wanted to get out of LA, but we enjoyed working at Lux, so we stayed, but Delilah and Mr. Morningstar told us that we could work at either place, so here we are. Welcome!”

With that, he let them in through the backdoor, which earned them a lot of dirty looks from the patrons waiting to get in. “You’re just on time,” continued Seth Meyer. “He’s about to play his set.”

He whistled to a guy nearby that introduced himself as Micha, and who led them to a booth nearby the stairs. Like in LA, the club had two levels, a tastefully stocked bar and a piano in the middle, but there was a greater warmth to it all. While it was definitely still a nightclub, there was a more intimate feeling to it. There were more opportunities to sit and relax and the lighting was warmer and a bit brighter. Not much, Emily, still witnessed plenty of couples and recent acquaintances having a very good time in the dim light, but altogether, it seemed less flashy and a bit more comfortable.

It was perfect.

The dancers had left their respective stages and were now sitting together, talking excitedly.

“I love this place already,” smiled Morgan, his eyes on the decidedly attractive visitors and dancers.

“Yes,” confirmed Reid, focusing on the piano and probably its atmosphere. “The staff is excited about tonight.” He observed. “It’s an interesting comparison to Lux, where everything worked smoothly and with a lot of routine. Here, they’re obviously still figuring things out.”

He was right, of course. While Lucifer had obviously prepared his staff well, and hired several experienced staff members, there were a few newbies that struggled with the pace. However, the way he had arranged it made sure that a newbie dancer or server was always paired with or supported by someone who had done this before, either at Lux or in other clubs.

They sat down, ordered their drinks, just in time for the lights to dim and for Lucifer to appear. He was wearing a dark suit and looked like every lustful thought merged into one living person. His smile was broad, welcoming and full of promises. Emily grinned in response.

“What a beautiful Saturday evening! Thank you for flocking here tonight. My name is Lucifer Morningstar and I hope you’re all having a lovely time. Welcome to _Astra_!”

With that very short introduction, he sat down and started to play.

_Maybe we're all different but we're still the same_  
_ We all got the blood of Eden running through our veins_  
_ I know sometimes it's hard for you to see_  
_ You're caught between just who you are and who you want to be_

_If you feel alone and lost and need a friend_  
_ Remember every new beginning is some beginning's end_

_Welcome to wherever you are_  
_ This is your life, you made it this far_  
_ Welcome, you got to believe_  
_ That right here, right now_  
_ You're exactly where you're supposed to be_  
_ Welcome to wherever you are_

_When everybody's in and you're left out_  
_ And you feel you're drowning in the shadow of a doubt_  
_ Everyone's a miracle in their own way_  
_ Just listen to yourself, not what other people say_

_When it's seems you're lost, alone and feeling down_  
_ Remember everybody's different, just take a look around_

_Welcome to wherever you are_  
_ This is your life, you made it this far_  
_ Welcome, you got to believe_  
_ Right here, right now_  
_ You're exactly where you're supposed to be_

_Be who you want to be_  
_ Be who you are_  
_ Everyone's a hero_  
_ Everyone's a star_

_When you want to give up and your heart's about to break_  
_ Remember that you're perfect, God makes no mistakes_

_Welcome to wherever you are_  
_ This is your life, you made it this far_  
_ Welcome, you got to believe_  
_ Right here, right now_  
_ You're exactly where you're supposed to be_  
_ And I say welcome_  
_ I say welcome_  
_ Welcome_

Damn, Bon Jovi had nothing on the devil. Lucifer’s fingers played the melody exquisitely, and his voice was an instrument in its own right. Emily felt how the exhaustion from the case began to diminish, and she was suddenly grateful that she had come here.

After welcoming them musically, he took them on a journey visiting Washington DC’s most prolific musicians, starting with several compositions of Jelly Roll Morton, Billy Stewart and a seemingly impossible piano version of bluegrass songs originally composed by Buzz Busby.

An hour later, he rang out the last notes of Skip James’ Washington D.C. Hospital Center Blues.

_Because you's a good man_  
_ You's a po' man_  
_ We can understand_

_I'd thankin' my doctor_  
_ And I was shakin' his hand_  
_ I'm gon' play these, 'Hospital Blues'_  
_ 'Till you's a wealthy man'_

_You took me as a good man_  
_ You know'd I was a po' man_  
_ You could understand_

_You know'd I was a good man_  
_ But I'm's a po' man_

_You can understand!_

People appeared to listen to his performance with almost surreal intensity, but then so was Emily. Lucifer did not just play the music; he played the crowd as effectively as any instrument. Once everyone recovered from this musical treat, loud applause begged him for an encore and he bowed in response.

_Hey man, come over here_  
_ There's a secret that I wanna whisper in your ear_  
_ I've waited so long, too long_  
_ But I can't deny it anymore it's just too strong_  
_ It's a special kind of feelin'_  
_ Something to believe in, oh yeah_

_So lay back, and let it flow_  
_ Then just open up your heart and let your feelings go_  
_ I said: "Hey man, yo man"_  
_ Well it's really not that difficult to understand_  
_ That it's me that you've been seein'_  
_ Baby when you're dreamin', at night_

_So let your walls come down and you'll feel my emotion_  
_ I will shelter you from a tear or an ocean_

_So relax, we'll take it slow_  
_ I wouldn't think you'd really have a better place to go_  
_ I said: "Hey man, yo man"_  
_ Why don't you move a little closer here and take my hand_  
_ Are you feelin' what I'm feelin'_  
_ I know I must be dreamin', oh yeah, yeah_

_But sometimes life can come_  
_ To build a wall in between us_  
_ Don't let it get you down_  
_ Whoever said love was an easy thing_

_I will be your light_  
_ Whenever you need a friend_  
_ Just come over to me, baby_  
_ Baby, baby, baby_

_So let your walls come down and you'll feel my emotion_  
_ I will shelter you from a tear or an ocean_

_I will be your light_

_I will be your light_

_Shining bright, baby_  
_ I'll be the one who holds you, baby_  
_ I'll be the one who loves you, baby_  
_ Be the one who holds you, loves you,_  
_ Baby, baby_  
_ Be the one who holds you, loves you, needs you_  
_ I'll be the one, I'll be the one, baby_  
_ I'll be the one loves you, baby_

“Oh God, I hope he’s gay,” said a man to his friend standing right next to the booth.

“Anyone who’s singing Céline Dion songs cannot be 100% straight,” muttered his friend back, clearly checking Lucifer out as well. “But look, he’s coming over. Just ask!”

That had Emily turn her head. She watched as Lucifer thanked his audience before approaching them. One of the waitresses crossed his path and handed over a glass of liquor without asking.

Before he could say anything, the patron slid in front of them cutting off Lucifer’s straight path to their booth.

“Hey! You were great up there,” the man in his mid-twenties, tall, blond and attractive, breathed. His friend had brown hair, but of a similar type.

Lucifer’s eyes gleamed, “Hello, darling. What do you desire?”

The patron swallowed dryly, “Your di-“ He coughed and looked away, turned red, but Lucifer just smiled, “Certainly. Does your friend want to join?”

They looked at each other, “We don’t really-“

“Oh, you can take turns. Whatever you desire,” he smiled. “But first, I’m obliged to say hello to my friends, the Behavioral Analysis Unit of the FBI.” With that, he innocently pointed at them, thus missing how his patrons stiffened at the announcement.

“Are they studying you?” asked the indirect suitor, utterly fascinated.

“No, no, I’m working with them,” declared Lucifer happily.

“Ok-ay, you know, it’s late, we should probably-“ said the suitor haltingly, and only then did Emily get a good look at him. His pupils were suspiciously dilated: he was definitely high.

“Oh, don’t worry,” smiled Lucifer. “I’m not going tell them about the drugs.”

The two young men left very quickly and Lucifer sighed, looking after them mournfully. “I’m going to have to give up on drugs, do I?”

“Do they even have an effect on you?” asked Morgan curiously.

“Partially. They give me a nice, warm buzz, just like alcohol, but it’s impossible for me to actually get intoxicated with any recreational drug, be they legal or illegal,” he answered, before actually looking at them for the first time. “Mr. Lynch did not want to come?”

“Oh, he’s on his way. HRT needed his help for a situation abroad, so he’s late,” replied Garcia.

“How did your case go?” asked Lucifer after a moment.

“The bad guys have been identified and arrested,” smiled Reid. “Good case. No additional loss of life.”

“I am glad to hear it. What do you think?” he immediately switched topics. He was in an excellent mood, and definitely unwilling to discuss a BAU case, which was a relief, because Emily really did not want to talk about their work tonight.

“The place looks fantastic,” said Hotch. “It suits you.”

Lucifer had apparently asked his staff to get some champagne, because a waitress appeared with a bottle and glasses. Thankfully, Kevin chose this exact moment to join them, and Lucifer happily served them the drinks.

“Welcome to Astra,” announced Lucifer lifting his glass, this time not addressing anyone but the small group of people. “Feel free to come here at any time, day or night. To many more nights together and copious amounts of sex.”

Emily chuckled at that, lifting her glass good-naturedly, “To our latest member.”

Hotch mirrored the move and added, “To the BAU.”

“To friends, old and new,” said Rossi solemnly.

“To a Light in the dark,” said JJ softly. Emily did not know exactly what her friend had discussed with Lucifer, but ever since showing Lucifer where the Archive was, she had become fiercely protective of Lucifer, almost as protective as she was of Reid and that was saying something.

Lucifer looked surprised, but he quickly covered it up by taking a sip. They all followed suit.

“Boss!” the bartender lifted his hand to get his attention.

“Excuse me,” said Lucifer, stepping away from them. He rejoined them later, only to be called away again. It was a busy night at Astra, but it looked like opening night was a huge success. Lucifer played a 45-minute set at 10 PM, and all the booths were full with people laughing, talking and kissing, while the dancefloor was filled with people having a great time (occasionally forgetting that they were not alone). Derek was one of them. Garcia and Kevin as well as JJ and Will were slow-dancing in the middle of the dancefloor. Rossi was talking to Hotch, and Emily felt the exhaustion of the last days catch up with her.

“Emily,” she vaguely heard Rossi’s voice. A hand was shaking her softly, but she was with Rossi and Hotch in Lucifer’s club. She was as safe as she could possibly be, so all she said was, “Hm?”

“Come on, I’m giving you a ride home,” said Rossi. Hotch was also rising from his seat.

They recovered most of their things and let the team know that they were leaving. They were about to look for Lucifer, when he arrived with one woman on each arm, and a third woman whom Emily could swear was a reporter, but she definitely did not look like she was going to write a negative review about the club.

“I will see you on Monday. I hope you enjoyed your night,” said he.

“It was great, Lucifer, thanks. What about you?”

“The devil’s work is never done, Agent Prentiss.”

With that, he wished them a good night, and returned to his duties. Tonight was the happiest she had ever seen him. It was obvious just how much he loved this work here.

When they were in the car, Rossi said softly, “JJ is right. He truly lights up the place. He’s both Hell’s Fire and Heaven’s Light. The Punisher of our greatest sins and giver of what we desire. And what did Willa Cather have to say about desire?”

_“’The world is little, people are little, human life is little. There is only one big thing — desire,’“ _replied Hotch.

Emily agreed with them: that truly sounded like Lucifer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Playlist:  
> Bon Jovi “Welcome to Wherever you Are”  
> Skip James “Washington D.C. Hospital Center Blues“  
> Celine Dion “Your Light”
> 
> References:  
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Music_of_Washington,_D.C.#Blues  
https://www.therecoveryvillage.com/cocaine-addiction/cocaine-eyes/#gref
> 
> Additional A/N:  
> Special thanks to SilverWolf7 for her input, the discussion, but in particular for the name club name Astra.
> 
> NEXT UP:  
Well, I'm back to work, so you'll have to live with what I hope will still allow me to have weekly updates...  
Now, from my plan you can see that I plan to do some episode recaps (mostly just snippets and scenes with Lucifer joining them on cases), called the Devil Files. I will probably write these in parallel to my four main stories. You don't have to read the Devil Files n order to understand the main stories (don't want to spoil anyone who doesn't know CM), though I will definitely use these episode recaps to explore the team dynamics.

**Author's Note:**

> Reverence For Life Series - Outline [chronologic order]:
> 
> STORY 1: Return From Tartarus (posted)  
STORY 2: The Devil Comes Down to Quantico (this story)  
CM Interlude 1: The Devil Files - Box 1 (CM episode recaps and snippets with Lucifer, not necessary for main stories)  
STORY 3: Like Ashes in the Wind (original case fic + original plot)  
CM Interlude 2: The Devil Files - Box 2 (more CM episodes, same as Box 1)  
STORY 4: The True Believer (original case fic + original plot)  
CM Interlude 3: The Devil Files - Box 3 (same as Box 1 & 2)  
STORY 5: When the Fallen Angel Weeps (original case fix + original plot)  
CM Interlude 4: The Devil Files - Box 4 (same as Box 1-3)  
STORY 6: Climbing Yggdrasil (original case fic + original plot)  
CM Interlude 5: The Devil Files - Box 5 (recommended to read for end)  
STORY 7: All Stories Come to an End
> 
> As you can see: Gigantic plan, and I have no idea if I'll ever manage to write all of this, but these were all the ideas in the room.  
Stories 3-6 will be built like Return from Tartarus, this current story and Story 7 as well as the CM Interludes will have much shorter chapters as a general rule, and each chapter should be a standalone one-shot (more or less)
> 
> Many thanks for SilverWolf7 who's listed as a co-author for the series because without her, this series would not exist.


End file.
